Hero's March
by FrostByterFang
Summary: That fateful battle in the wastes dealt Zack Fair a cruel hand: He barely survives, albeit with permanent injury. Taking advantage of Zack's K.I.A status, Tseng secretly enlists his aid to help free Aerith and Cloud from Shinra's all-encompassing shadow. Zack must use his new identity to protect his friends, all the while they remain ignorant of his survival. AU
1. Freedom's Price

**So yeah. Yet another "Zack lives and goes covert" thing. However, I was very much inspired by fics like 'Twenty-Three Wishes' by Luna the Zekrom, 'Shadow' by ZachMercurious, and 'Final Fantasy 7 Crisis Core redux' by Team Wingless. I loved all these fics, but that little itty bitty part of me was never satisfied by the other "Zack Lives" stories. I found these three fics and loved each equally, but my writing muse refused to be silent the more I read into the fandom. I found many cringe-worthy, others too short, others beautifully bitter but not hitting the right spot; and so on. ****I wanted to make one myself, so I spat this out.**

**Anyways, I love and adore Zack. Even though his fate is by all rights and purposes meant to be what it is; I can understand that. Sacrifice was what partially made Cloud into who we know and love. Even though destiny cut the guy a raw deal, Zack got what he wished for. I dig that.**

**But, what if Zack was meant to be more than just Cloud's hero? The guy obviously inspired Tseng to break Turk mold and and tried to rescue Zack from what was a grizzly fate. Tseng held onto those letters, saved them, and he sent out people like Cissnei to try to reason with him. He obviously cared too, as a friend in some way or another. I'm sure as a Turk, friends were luxuries for him sometimes. And I'm sure there were times that, had Zack lived, the Turks' role in the ff7 universe could be a little more interesting. So I made this to explore Zack's relationship with the people he's come to inspire.**

**Also, I love the Turks and this fic is a shameless excuse for it. Sue me.**

**This Fic is also basically that; a friendship fic that'll eventually have the romance factor- and I do mean "eventually". It snot the biggest driving contributor, but its still important. Still, this fic is meant to explore the kind of influence characters like Zack Fair had spread. ****Anyway, here's what you're getting in for:**

**Things to Note:**

***Please keep in mind there will be story divergence, other than the whole 'Zack lives' thing. So if there's any weird inconsistencies in the cannon's time-frame, understand that its deliberate. Its takes place within the 'cannon' of the OG series; NOT THE REMAKE. I'm basically 'fixing' the story, without having to add in the whole 'watchmen of fate' bit.**

***I may also change some bits of the story for a reason such as 'because it didn't make any sense'. These game designers were good, and the game was great when it came out, don't get me wrong. But, really, I always found some elements in the plot that never quite stuck as viable or a contributor to driving it forward.**

***Tseng's personality is going to be shifted around a bit then how we know it. I'd say it's for the sake of plot, but these budding characteristics are something we canonically witnessed in the actual story itself in Before Crisis and Crisis Core. They weren't very fleshed out; but here, they'll be more prominent. I always felt that the cast of every final fantasy still felt 2-dimensional somehow- especially Tseng- but here, he'll be more a little more interesting for you and me!**

***I also apologize for Zack's crass, colorful, and sometimes ooc outbursts in the first few chapters. Mind you, he's coming fresh out of the hospital, and may not still be 'all there'. He's also getting an informational overload, so take this into consideration when reading. He'll calm down and be his usual awesome self before too long.**

**Anyways, enough of this jibber-jabber. I hope if you guys do find anything askew or needing some fixing, please let me know in a good critique. I hope this is something more to your liking, my friends.**

* * *

~777~

Breathing was something one took for granted, right until adversity literally steals your breath away.

Be it sickness, cold, heat, or injury. A weight could settle within your body, in your chest, in your heart, _somewhere_; siphoning your energy, stealing away your desire to move, leaving you fatigued and tore up from the floor up. Its something that seemed autonomic, right up until your body says otherwise. And when you sleep, even then you have to battle your infirmity in order to take your next breath; all without your conscious; without control.

As it was, Zack Fair heaved laboriously as he lie there; his eyes shut and body sweaty, clammy and feverish from his previous endeavors. Mako charged or not, healing wasn't exactly easy or fast when he's at death's door; the angel's voice knocking away beyond his peripherals. He actually thought he could see the pearlescent light piercing through the empty, colorless void at one point. It thoroughly convinced the man that he'd finally, truly kicked the bucket. Of course, said door had never opened; even when once upon a time Zack would've willingly let in the seraph.

Bullet-riddled afflictions up and down his trunk was a stark, sobering reminder of his mortality; despite his outrageous and abnormal strength rendering him nearly super-human in all other faculties. The bit of him that was still physical, normal, human weakness hit him like waves upon waves of infernal nuclear nimbuses boiling away at his mind; searing and scorching at his senses every other moment. Conflagrations of the Hellish degree ruptured across his chest in some unseen fire-storm; leaving both he and his sheets drenched in mako-saturated sweat. His fists curled tightly, his short nails biting into shaking palms. His jaw clenched every time his nerves jumped. His muscles bunched and twitched spasmodically.

Of course, Zack didn't really consciously know anything yet- he was too busy writhing in flame-riddled _frickin' agony_ for hours without end; battling his own body in a bid to _**breathe**_. Still, it took some time, but the man managed to brace and endure the rolling inferno snaking its way through him. Once said pain abated somewhat, he was wordlessly, graciously, endlessly thankful for the small reprieve. He usually knew how to deal with pain- a lesson learned first-hand in SOLDIER; but this kind of agony was sharper; deeper, angrier.

He came too in long phases- eventually finding some semblance of sense in its lull. His frayed, tattered mind sluggishly stitched itself back together. Sometimes his eyes cracked open, admitting scant light but no discernible shapes. And then, he'd drift back into the vague nothing of blessedly sweet, drug-heavy, dreamless limbo.

He tried to move more often than not, but a heavy _thing _tugged and pulled at his face. It moved along his jumping throat, rendering it dry. He thought he also felt a variety of similar objects resting on or (grotesquely enough) _**within **_his breast, but Zack didn't want to think of it, or view the horror in its morbid entirety.

Moving was a bad idea in general; all he succeeded in doing was yank on the tubes forcing air into him. He choked and sputtered, and then grew a rudimentary brain cell and settled; letting his mind feebly wander. He tried to concentrate; centering his scattered senses and miserably attempting to piece them together. He might not have consciously known it in words or logic, but a hardened sense of knowing kept him from pulling the weird thing in his esophagus out. He didn't know it or word it in a typical sense; but its responsible for giving him his precious air and he _needed _it there.

Sometimes he thought he heard noises; humming, thrumming, _voices_\- All fluttering in and out of his sightless reality. Sometimes there's a _beepbeep_, but he didn't know what to make of it; and therefore didn't care initially. It didn't matter though; seeing as pain was the one true thing he can identify. It helped Zack come to the snappy conclusion that he could very well be _not dead_. And _not dead _translates into being _alive_... and _alive _translates into pain, pain, _pain_. Because surely, death didn't have pain, right?

Said pain ignited that same irritating inferno that sobered him further; and it was, in that striking moment of clarity that he's able to truly absorb his position in some part. This one thought shot sensation back into his fuzzy-nettled fingertips and forcefully pried his eyes open.

_Alive._

He was _alive._

He was alive, alive _alive_\- and the stupid company had failed to eliminate him!

But then- where _was _the beeping coming from?

Alive was indeed an operative word however- Seeing as the more Zack took in his environment without having a sensory over-load and consecutive shut-down, the more he couldn't help his budding anxiety.

There's a vast collection of machines surrounding him; enabling him these faint vestiges of strength. The clunky, expensive-looking things were huge, advanced, and riddled with buttons. Some more than others had a vast assortment of tubes and wires feeding _right into his body_\- One of which with tubing that's the color of rust; a blood transfuser if he had to guess.

Obviously, someone _wanted _him to survive, but Zack didn't know anyone that cared enough to bother. Shinra had tried so damn hard to kill him before, so why save him now? And who in the world would do it anyway?

He laid there for hours in a lofty, medically-drugged haze; elevated enough for his bleary eyes to roam the vacant room. Sobriety eluded him for that first while, but it came to him in time; gently. He listlessly took in the durasteel colored tile on the ceiling while listening to the ginormous contraptions droning a dull chorus around him. The room wasn't decorated at all, nor was there any windows as far as he can see whenever he inched his head to and fro. The only thing in here that's remotely interesting was the pile of medical equipment and himself.

He wanted to sigh, but the act was a Herculean chore in on itself. His own breathing capability was pretty shot; he couldn't draw breath on his own even if he _could_. The machine was doing all the work; and boy wasn't it a _huge _pain in the ass- and literally everywhere else in his chest. That said, was this thing the dreaded Iron lung or something? He hoped not.

When he finally had the majority of his senses back (along with his common sense), he couldn't help wondering how he came to be here. His brows slanted inward, but the man couldn't really feel it all that well. He blinked and weighed his situation with humorless distaste; his brain finally dragging itself from the drugged quagmire that he'd been stuck in for the last few hours.

_Where is-? How am I-?_

His eyes darted suddenly,his enfeebled mind pacing relentlessly around in a repeated, frantic circle like a wild animal pacing its cage. Being imprisoned either in Hojo's lab or this place felt the same to Zack: like total, absolute, unending torture of the highest extremes. Zack was a man known for his boundless energy; so being rendered unable to do anything even as simple as _breathing _was driving him stir-crazy.

And then, intrusively, he dearly wished that this person; no matter who they were, had left him to die in the wastes. As morbid as that thought was, it would've been his choice to make; not theirs. Control was an elusive beast Zack has hunted for in the past; and he'd pretty much lost it as soon as Sephiroth had gone crazy and burnt Nibelheim to the ground. So for him to have no say over himself, his friends, his own _life _and how he wanted to spend its last moments- well, it was certainly incentive enough to awaken the hibernating potential within him.

He sure as Hell wasn't gonna stay in another damn lab for another damn day.

_"The price of freedom sure is steep."_

Even in the eye of the roiling storm back then, his heart had been calm and steady. When he made that statement amidst a hopeless situation, he didn't dare consider if his standing to fight on that precipice was truly a choice of his _own _making- Or if fate merely gave him that illusion; weaving together that odd, detached sense of halcyon where there should've been stone-cold fear.

Nonetheless, he'd been dauntless of any inquietude; unwavering in the turbulent tsunami crashing around him. When there's action, he felt grounded; solid, immovable. Here however, in this mute, tiny little corner of Minerva-knows-where, there's no illusions about the nature of this iron-clad cell. He felt trapped, weak, _mortal_. The tubes in his body was proof enough of that.

With this in mind, Zack found a seering, perverted pinprick of rage coil within; his fingers digging into his palms with vehement promise. Energy seered through him, effectively removing the lingering dregs of fatigue. He's a fugitive for Minerva's sake! Nobody but freaking _Hojo _would've wanted Zack alive unless they-

Unless... they...

Oh.

Oh shit.

_...Oh HELL no. _

His eyes suddenly bugged out, his battle-sharpened senses honing in on every possible detail he could possibly scan around him: This room might've been bland, tasteless, and so gray that even Midgar's rainy skies beheld more color; but it's irrefutably a _**damn **_med lab- which was the last place Zack wanted to be in now. The odds that Hojo owned it seemed pretty high at that instant.

_**NO**__. No. Friggin'. Way! I'm not a damn EXPERIMENT. I'm __**not**__ gonna take anymore of this stupid scientific bull-shit lying down! Fuck this, I'm out._

Zack wriggled again with a new sense of rationalized urgency, feeling the gods-thrice-damned tube in his throat tug uncomfortably. He quickly found his wrists tied down once he noted feeling returning to the numbed areas, but it wouldn't stop him if he could just flex them a certain way. He knew his strength was an unnatural, gargantuan thing; but it's an advantage he never minded utilizing. Especially _now_.

His heart monitor spiked as his once-seemingly empty reservoirs of adrenaline frantically lanced through his exhausted bloodstream. He yanked and lifted his torso off the bed, his chest meeting the leather straps belting him down. Nonetheless, he fought against them with every iota of his being; twisting and jerking his heavy arms in sharp motions. He willed his usually larger muscle mass to give the extra _oomph_ he needed and sprung up and down on the bed like a diver on a spring-board; pulling the straps tightly taut each time.

The aforementioned animal had willed its way to the bars; and now its chewing its way through with willful, unbroken teeth.

_Gotta... get hands... lose...! Even __**one**__!_

He didn't know how long he was at this, but it wasn't too long evidently: Its certainly long enough that someone in a _gods-quadruple-damned _white lab coat came rushing to Zack's side and pressed something on the machine behind his head. Zack barely enough time to take in the figure's pallored features and petite, but masculine build before blackness crept into his vision. His heart lurched, and then calmed as his head lolled to one side. He cursed his ill-fated luck with an uncharacteristic venom he never knew he had.

And then he saw nothing at all.

* * *

~777~

He didn't know better, but several hours passed since his initial awakening.

At some point, voices broke the relentless tedium of stifled quietude; hushed, low and undiscernable behind the only door to his room. He thought he glimpsed a dark-haired head peek into the room once, but then the door shut and silence reined.

Freaking _lover-ly. _He's being watched like the freak science project he was; like one of Hojo's monstrous, mutated mega-fauna.

Zack nodded in and out after this point, his former fire withering to smoldering, cold embers as he sat alone for vast stretches. His frustration only built and built; he couldn't run, fight, _breathe_\- Or think, or move, or even _fart _without somebody's damned permission at this point. It's bad enough he couldn't feel much from the waist down.

_What a steaming load of chocobo crap._

His thoughts fell briefly to Cloud, and he wondered if the blond made it out of the wastes after all; or if he finished recovering from his mako addiction. He could only hope and pray at that point; and he _dearly _hoped that Shinra had no further interest in Cloud after his liberation.

And then he's thinking of _her_\- the little angel in the smallest slice of heaven hidden away within the Sector Five slums. His heart clenched and sank yet lower; closing his eyes as he fought the rising rip-tide surge of regret at not quitting Shinra sooner- As Aerith had beseeched of him years ago.

Gods, how she _begged_\- Its almost as if she'd _known _something would go inevitably wrong with the Nibelheim mission. The next time she ever told him not to do something, for once in his stupidly short life he should actually listen to her. Its bad enough he'd never listened to Angeal's warnings when he gave them.

If he stayed with the girl, maybe he could've given her so much more of his time. Maybe he could've been her personal bodyguard too, good and proper; protecting her from the Turks and the world alike while giving her the time of day she deserved. He could've taken her to see the sky he loved from his childhood; not the one that frightened her. To let Aerith see the _freakin' _stars for once- That would've been one Hell of a date; and one of his most singular, beloved, and best memories ever.

He could've helped her fix her little cart that had broken during his 'excursion' to Nibelheim, or helped her and her aging mother around in the slums. The proletariate people there possessed a sense of community that Zack admired, and he wouldn't have minded blending into their little world and hopefully becoming a more stead-fast and permanent part of Aerith's life. Aerith's neighbors certainly didn't seem to mind him in some part; even throwing around their opinions on how _good _the two of them looked together.

But, shoulda, woulda, coulda, _didn't_. Or was that a distinct _can't_?

On the side- For all of his talk of dreams, for all that his late, austere mentor Angeal had preached; still these dreams had faded to obscurity, no matter how hard Zack fought. He'd fled, he'd bled, he'd fought and tore his way through more than half-way across the world in a vain attempt to take back his freedom of choice. To get both Cloud and himself a chance at a life he so _desperately _wanted after all of this pain.

...And to actually hear Aerith's lilting resonance like warm summer's breath. To glimpse the little botanical-eyed fae sitting amidst her own secret garden; blooming under Midgar's halogenic, slime-coated, rusty underbelly-

_He came in with that familiar creak of the ancient doors; pulling them shut with a detached and solemn air that could be tangibly touched. And with just as much lethargy, he slowly meandered his way to the fallen celestial being standing sentinel over her lovingly-tended circle of cheery marigold blooms. _

_As he approached, he couldn't help watching this delicate creature oh so raptly; the timid, slightly broken rivulets of sun that managed to breach Midgar's rancid bowls rained their splendor upon her in en-flowering halos. Not for the first time, he couldn't help pondering just how lucky he was to have met the evangelical angel that guarded this one and only haven in this horrid city- the one being that dared give this dirty and uncleansed stain of mortal men her endearing attentions. The one place Zack felt his safest; even when all else was a Hell-bound mess._

_Zack wanted to cringe as the stupidly obnoxious clomp of his waffle-stompers resonated around them; the vast enormity of the church only serving to emphasize the hesitation edging his every step. However, the sound seemed more a grand herald and less like the walk of shame for the girl over yonder; she whirling in place and smiling in reveled elation. It was a genuine affection made mythical by the enlightened glow of her natural aura. Her hands, which had been clasped over heart in likely silent prayer, finally relinquished their hold. She bounced almost merrily in place; her auburn bangs and loose locks fluttering as she trotted to meet him half-way. _

_But at the sight of his own grim expression, she faltered to a stop; her smile dimming just the slightest degree. "...Zack?" she began, her voice a sacral serenade made nearly tremulous as she detected his apprehension._

_He closed his eyes; unable to see the moment her hopes shattered like glass once this conversation began and ended, inevitably. Already, he felt the cottony wad choking off his air-flow; lying like a bloated pustule at the back of his throat. "I'm getting deployed," he breathlessly murmured, feeling unable to draw in any air. "And I'm getting sent somewhere pretty far away."_

_He dared crack an eye open, and then suddenly wished he didn't- He watched her joyous light flicker and dim; a vibrant flame snuffed to the pitiful warmth of a dying candle. Her hands were there again; over her breast and her mouth parted somewhat._

_Zack forced himself to remember to breathe; and then said in a rush in an effort to heal the wound he inflicted, "The thing is, I shouldn't be there for too long- Give or take a week or two. At most, maybe a month if there's delays or somethin'." He scratched his head, eyes glued to the floor, "And I shouldn't be getting into any fights neither. The area is known for having dangerous animals and what-not, but its not anything I haven't already dealt with before. I'll be just fine either way-"_

_"Don't go."_

_"Huh?"_

_The girl nibbled her peachy lips; a forbidden fruit Zack has miraculously indulged in the pleasure of tasting before. Sometimes, the thought still mystified him: The rare times he and this elegant creature stole away precious moments in-betwixt his assignments were the moments that felt more or less like the lucid dreams that fade into permanant obscurity upon waking from a sound slumber. Moments made nearly intangible; and the most sacred of his memories to date._

_"Don't. Go," she repeated firmly, her eyes suddenly flashing resolutely. "You can give the job to someone else, couldn't you?"_

_Zack's hands planted themselves to hips, but his head remained stead-fastly arrested onto the floor, "Yeah... I could... but I have some close friends goin' with me for this one... I'm supposed to be guiding one of them too. I'm his mentor." _

_Zack couldn't help smiling at that, feeling a sense of pride in knowing he's playing such an important role to someone like Cloud; who needed the support, frankly. Still, he couldn't retain said smirk when he can almost physically touch Aerith's disappointment now; as it seemed to vibrate off of her as he went on, "And uh... you know I don't like handing my jobs off to someone else. I never felt right about the idea."_

_Aerith shook her head, "Then, you should quit Shinra. Maybe right after you do the job-"_

_"Aerith-" Zack sighed, having already seen this shift in topic long-since forth-coming._

_"Please!" she almost loudly exclaimed while somehow keeping her voice perfectly low. "You know you can't expect every job to go smoothly. It won't always be that way. And if it did go __**wrong**__-"_

_Her lilting warble couldn't have touched him __**more**__\- the kind of thing Zack had always fallen prey to. But still, even despite this angel's unwavoring supplication being blessed upon him, still he knew he couldn't adhere to it. He just couldn't; and no amount of sincere explanation has ever pacified this wonderful and unearthly being before him in the past._

_Zack had his turn to shake his head, reaching out and planting both gloved hands onto her bare shoulders- a soft reminder that there's always a tangible barrier between them, somehow. "Aerith," he said, keeping his mellow timbre perfectly controlled and assuring. "It'll be fine. I know I shouldn't be saying this, but I'll have Sephiroth with me. Anytime I ever went on a job with him, its always worked out. __**Always**__."_

_Aerith's expression retained its grim exterior. If anything, her lips thinned into something as fine as Wutain rice paper. "If Sephiroth's with you," she began apprehensively. "Then the job is definitely, __**horribly **__dangerous."_

_Crap. Not the reaction he was hoping for._

_Zack passed her his most sincere smile, breathing out in this long, deliberately drawn motion that dragged most of his reservations out of him. He couldn't muster the strength to grin like usual though, instead relying upon soft touches and a calm, outward attitude that should defuse whatever emotional bomb may be ticking within her. _

_As an added measure, he even pulled her close enough to nearly eclipse her; resting his scarred cheek on the crown of her cherry-wood cranium. Loose strands of hair rebelliously resisting the girl's braid tickled his nose; the perfumed fragrances of sage, marigold, and wild-flower hinted with a touch of generic, rose-scented shampoo wafted heavily him. Her natural warmth bled through his grungy uniform very much like standing within direct sun on the finest, coolest spring day fresh after winter's death._

_If only she knew just how precious she was- __**especially **__to him. Especially after all of the bull-shit throwing its dirty crap at him every day he donned his blade and clothes. His accumulated filth that lie in caked-on layers around his body, both inside and out were always washed away by her cleansing rain. Every moment he's ever been here, its always purified him of his sinful baggage every time._

_Her thin arms, despite being sandwiched between them managed to slither their way around his trunk as would an patient ivy climbing the tallest tree. It was a creeping, grounding vice that clambered incrementally up the man's body to meet at his shoulders; pressing the full brunt of his weight down upon her. She wound up flattening the much larger individual against herself in the closest approximation of intimacy she can possibly manage; her nose buried somewhere around his neck. _

_Almost every indentation of her slimmer physique conformed blindly to him; her every breath never unnoticed. Zack could count every sigh as it escaped her; the ginger current sweeping in warming arcs around his throat like the kiss of the smallest zephyr. And with the hypnotic effect of her very proximity, he couldn't help wishing he could just quit Shinra over all._

_But he knew better. He knew better than to try._

_If he did, he knew he wouldn't be able to properly shield her: His job as top dog (besides Sephiroth) was what's keeping the Turks' distance for right now. They wouldn't try going after her so long as he remained her boyfriend; or else they risk alienating one of Shinra's best and more experienced members of SOLDIER. Should Zack feel antagonized enough to defect, it would be the day he'd take her away with him- and not a single person with the exception of Sephiroth would be physically capable of stopping him. _

_But that day wasn't anytime soon, and this he inherently knew. So for now, he would continue to don the uniform; if it meant his position could continue to ensure Aerith's little bit of freedom and his capacity to guard her. If his position in SOLDIER shielded her from a life-time of misery behind a kingdom of glass prison cells and dagger-like needles in her fragile body, then his job was worth every ounce of his suffering._

And all he had to show for it was his winding up here; in this strange, isolated, mis-begotten, windowless cubical; desperately alone and cut off from the world while being drugged out of his freaking noggin. Yet again made prisoner by his own resistance against a world-power greater than any lone man.

And perhaps, a place he'd be resigned to wither into obscurity and die within.

When his eyes began to burn and blur, Zack blinked quickly and suddenly wished to grit his teeth in frustration; but he couldn't even do _that_. He began to lament for a different reason now- for the fact he didn't even have the simple freedom of wiping away his own mute tears or move his stinking jaw the way he wanted. His lungs whispered and fretted at his inability to properly clutch at air, his trunk tightening and heaving painfully.

So, Sephiroth gets to cry 'momma' and go ape-shit crazy on a little village; with barely anyone to stop him. But Zack, the good boy in all this nonsense fighting, gets locked up in a cage of either reinforced glass or steel with no ability whatsoever to even scratch his own god damn nose or balls when he wants to? That kind of thing happened to him _twice _for that matter! In four freaking years! What kind of crap shoot, cracker-jacked, idiotic bull-huey is _that_?

_Fucking. Bloody. Chocobo. __**SHIT**__._

He armed himself with his whirling anger then; figuring it better medicine than ruminating in self-pity. He'd continue to feel this way for a while too; his moods fluctuating between bitter sorrow and helpless, righteous, unbridled _RAGE _at Shinra and all they've wrought. His guts screamed at him in a bizarre mix of nausea and hunger, and then said hunger deserted him and replaced it with a desperate, wretched need to pee. He was starting to wonder if the gear attached to him was actually helping him relieve said desires after further contemplation.

For Zack, this kind of survival shouldn't be remotely linked with the word _living_\- this was a Hell all of its own, in a whole different league. He silently vowed to find any way to free even _one _of his hands just so he could take out the stupid, cold, plastic serpent threading breath into him. But not without scratching his own nose first; 'cause he _really _had to scratch it. He didn't give the slightest damn if his own lungs failed afterward; this would be a fate of his own choosing since his initial attempt to die seemed to fail spectacularly.

He tried moving his hands for hours after settling onto this declaration; relentless in his squirming and twitching and turning. The medicine seemed to ebb, and although more pain replaced what had been a vacant numbness at it wore off, _still _he persisted. Zack was a trier; and such determination was steadily loosening the leathery coils-

But then the door creaked and moaned open; and a short somebody with coppery curls carefully stole her way in like a thief in the night.

Zack ceased his ministrations and strained to moved his head; but the metallic-tasting, make-shift wind-pipe and mask limited his turn radius. At the very least, he's able to see a figure move toward him from the side; albeit difficult to perceive.

His usually warm summer-skies for eyes turned shock-cold; flashing cryogenic menace in an attempt to cover his previous frustration and sadness. His emotions clashed and collided with each other; tensing the viable musculature throughout his body. A culminating typhoon of _spite _bubbled from within his core; something old and primal tempering into a ferocious energy that shot liquid fire throughout his body. He sat waiting to give this incoming scientist a battle of wills she'll never forget-

But then she spoke, and his tempestuous rage-boner forcefully abated like a squall.

"...Zack? Are you... are you actually _awake_?"

Her soft, usually mild, if not shell-shocked voice was somehow instantly _familiar_; guarded and wary as it was. Still, he knew her strange, polite tone well enough to recognize her.

His heart palpitated some as the girl slowly crept to his bedside; her collected mask loosened just enough as she took him in. After a moment of watching each other like this, Zack thought he saw the tiniest smile _ever _grace her tired lips. Such an easy, if not subtle gesture surprisingly took some edge off of his nerves at first, but Zack kept himself guarded no less.

Cissnei huffed when she noted Zack's rather surprising amount of alertness, her face brightening slowly. She looked a little fatigued herself, her hair unbrushed and usual Turk uniform unkempt. Which, in all actuality, shocked Zack more than whatever she could say. Cissnei was usually religious in her keeping up appearances in the Turks- and uniform maintenance was kinda her thing. She's only ever ousted by Tseng, who somehow _always _looked like he just came from the dry-cleaners. That guy's uniform was always spic-and-span, and Cissnei was no different at times. But now, seeing the girl like this, Zack couldn't help but wonder what went on in that convoluted trap of a brain.

Nonetheless, the implications of the situation dawned on him: Her being here meant that the Turks were the ones who'd found him out in that battlefield and likely dragged him back here in the first place- And he's pretty sure 'here' meant Shinra headquarters if freaking _Cissnei _was here.

Zack balled his fists and groaned then; albeit the sound was a distorted, hollow, almost cruel, muffled parody of itself. The raspy, electronic grumble stopped the girl short from him; her hesitation to approach reminiscent of one who regards an over-sized, spitting, cornered animal. Her eyes widened a bit, but settled back to their usual, neutral mask. She looked at the machine behind his head, blinked, and then shook her own.

"Man," she murmured softly, keen on meeting his flat gaze head-on while keeping her own genial. "Don't tell me you're actually feeling awake enough to understand me? Blink twice if you do."

Zack registered his inability to properly shake his head and suddenly mutely thanked Cissnei for her remembrance of his condition; but his previous anger and rueful ruminations twisted and curled in on each other before devolving into suspicion and wariness. He schooled his expression more, but felt an irritating amount of relief at knowing he wouldn't be sitting alone today. He'd had done enough talking to himself for a life-time; thank you very much.

When he blinked the requested number of times then, its a deliberately slow and methodical motion. He even added some crinkles at the corners of his eyes in an pathetic show of his former smile; no matter how false it was. Zack liked her enough; but he still couldn't trust her per se. Granted, he's pretty sure the eye-wrinkles looked more like a grimace, but who cares? It wasn't far off the margin.

Seeing this, Cissnei's own smirk evolved into a tiny, almost timid grin that certainly seemed genuine. "I'm glad," she breathed. Her hands gave a vague motion; as if wanting to fold into each other- but stayed planted at her sides. Her warm, maple-brown stare was refreshing at least. "Even with enough medicine to knock out a bull wyerd, I see its done nothing to slow your cognitive sense. I suppose I should find it relieving even." Her smile grew, "You know, I was starting to think the worse after so long-"

_But for how long exactly? _Zack wondered. He could only blink helplessly at her however; his innate frustration with his medical disability rising for the ump-teeth time that day.

Cissnei seemed to spare the former SOLDIER some of his burden when she added, keeping her voice a low, conversational level, "You've been in a 'medical coma' for about a week, so don't worry about missing any years this time. It's meant as a precaution to treat your pain when you first came in. I think the doc called it 'traumatic, pneumo-something... thorax'...?" She shook her head dismissively, "Whatever the case, you went into hypovolaemic shock sometime before we arrived- and by 'we' I mean me, Reno and Rude. If the doctor hadn't done what he has, the shock would've finished the job."

Her hands migrated behind her back, her expression fluttering between awe and concern next, "You've been under for quite a while. Surgery was done to extract all the bullets you had in you, and its meant to fix the damage to your chest primarily. It all worked out after the doc got done. I gotta say though," her next expression was a wry, somewhat paltry twist of her lips. "By now, I think its fair to say you're a medical marvel. Color me impressed after seeing you survive more than couple dozen shots and broken bones, and whatever else the doc said."

Zack shifted some and blinked at her, his mind wandering. _Cissnei's never been __**this **__straight-forward with me before... Has she?_

If anything, the girl was once indifferent to him. She's patient with Zack, and seemed to care enough about his well-being that too many times she'd let him off the hook, but Zack didn't always know how to feel about her. So seeing her now, talking so _much_ had disarmed him in some ways. He didn't even remotely care about the info on his well-being- Its her openly emotional behavior that he found odd. A nit-picked detail, sure, but one a good Turk wouldn't so casually toss around.

But then again, Cissnei was always been a good Turk when she's in front of her co-workers. Whenever it's just she and Zack though; maybe just her in some situations, its not like she always did follow her orders to the last letter. So, a good Turk, maybe yes, but not perfect.

Cissnei brushed a lock of her metallic-colored hair back over her shoulder and drew out a chair from somewhere behind, or next to (Zack couldn't tell) one of the machines whirring beside his bed. She primly settled into it, her small hands set on her lap. _She's fidgeting _came the next thought as he watched her subconsciously move one arm to hold the other; a trait she never outwardly used.

She let out a pent-out breath and added in a soft, barely audible murmur; as if afraid someone could hear her, "I thought you weren't going to make it, Zack. Even Tseng counted you out when he saw you. He doesn't flip out easily; but surprisingly even _he _damn near did when he saw your wounds." Her downcast and sullen appearance suddenly emphasized her waxy complexion- apparently she'd been neglecting food or sleep.

_Maybe both._

Zack felt uncomfortable about the development; he'd always lectured the girl to take better care of herself first instead of her job sometimes. Cissnei was hard to sway though; her job meant her life to her. To Zack, its just a _job_; and that's something they never saw eye-to-eye on. But then again, Turks were trained differently, and their work was somehow _dirtier _than what SOLDIER's were usually employed for; no matter how clandestine it was.

_Or maybe not_, said an inner knowing he didn't really recognize in his own voice. _Perhaps her current condition stems from true concern and not formality? _

Zack wanted to shake his head; but again he's met with an impasse. He had no way of really knowing if Cissnei's suddenly queer, lean lifestyle was at all affected by his near-death. Truthfully a friend would react so, but her? How many times has he actually interacted with her outside of their jobs socially? Would he actually call them friends?

Well, it seemed to be a distinct maybe; considering the girl's feelings in question.

Oblivious to his stray thoughts, Cissnei went on after a pause; the girl not quite used to talking so extensively. "Our medical professionals here are exclusive; they only treat Turks who get hurt on confidential missions. They're not big talkers either, so don't worry about word getting out that you're here: its kinda part of their M.O. Even President Shinra doesn't know you're here; if its any consolation. The whole world thinks you're dead."

Zack felt his calm briefly break, wondering if her words extended to _everyone_\- His parents and Aerith included. If what she said was true, then...

Still, Zack had to shelve the thought as the other went on.

"-At least this way, nobody would come looking for you: not even Hojo," She must think her words encouraging at this point, seeing as her modulated tone went unbroken. "-Heidegger may head our department, but he doesn't really look into who comes here or doesn't." She snorted next; something Zack starkly noted he'd never seen her do, if at all. It passed more as a kitten giving a contemptuous sniff though.

_...She's never seemed too open about how she feels about her superiors or what they're up to. What's going on here?_

She shuffled somewhat and sighed, taking the moment to collect her thoughts. She then continued in a leisurely manner, "See, Tseng even asked your doctor, Hendel, to pay him under-the-table as an added measure; to keep quiet about you. Hendel doesn't care about money though, and said it wasn't necessary. At the very least, Tseng's still going out of his way to make sure nobody learns about you. I think he's covering the all bills too."

Zack blinked a few times to demonstrate his surprise at this.

Cissnei drew a slow breath, "Anyways, these two doctors we have are _really _good at what they do. Somehow, Hendel still managed to save you even when your condition said otherwise. He's the best doctor the Turks have: A real professional, and he only works for _**us **_should something go wrong. He's worked alongside Hojo here and there for training, but he's not a scientist."

At Zack's twitchy reaction, the girl added hurriedly, "L-look. Don't worry about it, okay? Hendel doesn't really care for Hojo's..." She trailed off as she tried to recall the exact words; and then she added with air-quotes, "He said, 'unorthodox', or 'immoral' methods. I actually go to Hendel and Sierra myself; Sierra more so." She pointed to herself briefly, trying to console the man before his heart rate accelerated to its weirdly familiar frenetic measures. "We keep a male and female doctor around for respective reasons, and they're _actual _doctors. Not creepy scientists. I'm sure SOLDIER had something similar, right?"

In a way, she's right; but oh-so wrong: SOLDIER primarily went to scientists as medical professionals more often than not, due to their exposure to mako energy. It's a tedious process that required extensive monitoring. It's a dreadful actuality; but true. Weirdos like Hojo were actually uncommon, but each guy gave Zack a different if not obscured reason to avoid doctors, no matter who they were. They all freaked him out in some way or another.

Still, he hoped he could rely on Cissnei's words to try to suppress the rigid fear knotting within his innards. It wasn't like he actually _feared _doctors per se; no way. He just _loathed _doctors in general. No offense to this Hendel dude.

Whatever the case, Zack tried to move his arms again; but the action merely caught Cissnei's attention. She continued dolefully with, "I'm sorry about the breather mask and straps... I know it can't be good feeling so constricted." She looked away, her lips thinning. "Its... its kind of... _needed_-?For your condition, I mean. You reacted pretty badly earlier. The doc had to put you under for a few hours to calm you down. I think at some point he said your lungs would've collapsed if you struggled anymore."

She frowned, the expression pinching her nose almost cutely, "He had a term for it, but I don't remember it. The thing is, Hendel says that the mako energy in your body kind of speeds along regeneration; possibly preventing any complications you could've developed."

_Well, yay. Lucky me. No wonder I couldn't die properly. _Zack scoffed inwardly, his ebon brow line dipping. _Freaking daisy-cutters, the lot of them; right up until it matters to the individual. _

Cissnei noticed it though, but didn't comment. She shrugged helplessly next, though the gesture wasn't meant as callous or careless. Her face appeared mollified as she sighed, "...I'm sorry this happened to you at all, Zack. I was hoping to- I mean Tseng, he..." She fumbled around for words, her mind scrambling around for thoughts.

After what passed as a minute, she eventually tried again. "...What I was trying to say," she settled for. "-Was that we, as in the royal 'we', as in the select Turks that looked for you were hoping to get to you before the Shinra army did. _They _were told to shoot to kill- Tseng merely wanted to find you and bring you in alive safely."

Zack blinked once, twice, and then turned his head away as much as he could. He still had his doubts deep down, seeing how it sounded too good (or too far-fetched) to be true. But what else could he do? He wanted to take Cissnei's word for it; a part of him truly hoping that her words were genuine. Sadly, Zack was no longer the idiot puppy who wagged his tail for everyone who passes by; hoping to please wherever he went... inhaling all the crap fed to him.

At some point he believed the somewhat enigmatic man his friend; but being hulled into Hojo's Hell-house sure can change a guy's perspective on what he or she could call 'friends'. You'd think Tseng would've said something about watching his friend getting dragged into Hojo's playhouse of horrors; or Cissnei herself for that matter. Hell, maybe they could've planned some way to smuggle Zack's cold, comatose body instead of carry on with their lives wrapped up in their jobs-

_No. That's not right nor fair to them_, Zack realized. _They would've probably been sloughed too, if not __**worse**__. Hell, they probably woulda died still wearing their uniforms if they did anything to help me._

He also wondered about all the times Cissnei's showed up in the earlier days of his running, and how she let him escape deliberately. How many times has she done that anyway? Two? Three times? She claimed that Tseng wanted to help him and Cloud too, but shouldn't she have said something about it early on in his running? He could've surrendered himself to her custody peacefully; no run-ins with the Army needed. As a fugitive given an out, maybe he really could've avoided the army to begin with. Then again, Zack might've simply dismissed their help underneath the circumstances; believing it false.

_What a pain in the ass_, he inwardly groaned. _Angeal's right: I really can be a moron sometimes. Well, its probably best to let this shit go now anyways._

On another note, Zack recalled that the girl beside his bed wasn't much of a huge talker herself; usually reserved and a better listener than anything. She teased, sometimes she could even be adorable or coy about it, but Cissnei was a Turk through and through. She took her job _very _seriously; so much so the two almost came to blows about it not too long ago.

So said she, "-I'm sure you want the mask off, or the straps removed. I can't do anything about the former, but if Hendel got a good look at you again soon, he'll release those so long as you don't mess with the equipment. Its a given, but you'll have to comply, okay?"

Zack blinked twice again in understanding; it seemed fair. But still, that little part of him started to suspect a catch before long.

Her earlier smile returned upon seeing his positive reaction, her face brightening. "You'll be okay," she continued to assure. "Just hang in there a little longer. You'll have that infernal thing out of your throat soon. Alright?"

Her seemingly earnest, if not surprisingly lofty air should've made Zack even _more _suspicious, but he couldn't help the gut-clenching sensation of wanting to confide in her soft words. The girl in question was someone who worked for the wrong people; but it thankfully didn't sully her moral fiber in some way or another. Turk she may be, even she'd been a good friend at one point or another. This in mind, he suddenly, viciously, desperately _wanted _to believe that Cissnei only wanted what's best for him; and its a need that drove home the fact that Zack was now alone in the world.

His parents didn't know he's here; nor did Aerith, Cloud, or Kunsel. The only other 'friends' he had were either dead, MIA, or otherwise. Cissnei and the inscrutable Tseng were all that's left now. Besides, these guys probably _did _go through Hell-and-back trying to get to him before the army did; saving his life when anyone else would've deemed him dead on the spot. So he (metaphorically) gritted his teeth and bore this morbid thought in silence. He retained his guarded feelings, but blinked twice in answer to her words, not noticing his own expression fall with each second that passed.

_Yeah. Friends. They went through every possible kind of security exposure just to get me here, so... maybe they actually __**do **__care deep down? _He figured as he remembered Cissnei's kindnesses. She _did_ give him a bike, let him leave Gongaga, and deliberately feed false information when its convenient for him. Why would she change her mind now? Especially now that he knew the Turks who found him only did what they believed was right.

This sign seemed to encourage the ex-SOLDIER, with the Turk observing Zack's shift in demeanor. The man always was an open book when it came to his facial expressions; and it instilled into Cissnei just how lonely he was. She tried to smile more sincerely in answer, hoping to lift Zack's spirits as much as she could.

"Don't be sad," she murmured. "There's still a chance for you to get out of here- I can at least assure you that. Didn't I mention Tseng wanting to help?" At his terse, jerky shake (he definitely regretted that), Cissnei retained her gentle smile as she elaborated, "Well, he had a plan for you for when you got here. I'm afraid I can't say now because I'm sure you're still, eh-" she moved her hand a in a 'so-so' motion, "-Probably not all there yet. Then again, you seem pretty clear-headed, but I still think its up to Tseng himself to disclose the plan."

Zack blinked twice again and tilted his head as far as he could without pulling on the mask too much; a tic of his that respectfully and partially earned him the moniker "Zack, the puppy" back in his earlier days as a lower-ranked SOLDIER.

_...Plan? What plan?_

He leveled her a more intrigued look, but that one inner voice he usually ignored in his noggin kept preaching about how shifty this talk was. Be that as it may, it became apparent to Zack that Cissnei; whose usually the epitome of discreet, was speaking so informally and openly suggested that this room truly didn't belong to that physco Hojo. Not only that, but it really wasn't under any surveillance that he's familiar with. They may actually have some semblance of privacy for all he knew. Either that, he was getting _too _comfortable with her here, the longer she lingered. Female company always did that to him, one way or another.

Suddenly, Cissnei's phone chirped; effectively jerking Zack out of his reverie and shocking the former. The Turk blew out an exasperated breath and flipped it open, her warm eyes suddenly sterner. She sighed and put it back into some pocket in her tux. "Sorry about that. I think that's my cue to leave," she informed him. "I've got some prep work to finish and clock out for the day. Its been a _long_ week."

_But, didn't she just get off duty-?_

Cissnei _had _come visit wearing a rumpled uniform. Why was she getting called back in now-? And what the hell did she mean by 'prep' work? Had she been on break or something?

His questions would go unanswered sadly. She rose from her chair with what Zack thought was sheer, tired reluctance; moving it away from the bed so Hendel wouldn't trip on it whenever he returned. Just as she reached the door, her hand resting on the turn-knob, she gave Zack a more reassuring glance and added, "I'll be around, Zack. I promise to come say hey tomorrow."

Her vivid eyes and more enthused body language (something she usually concealed) was a confident posture she gained from watching Zack himself a long time ago. Her expression regained its more familiar, reserved quality too. Suddenly she folded her arms and turned to face him fully once more, her face almost fondly exasperated.

"By the way," she said, her voice small but firm. "-_Please_, for the love of Minerva don't do something stupid or impulsive when Hendel lets your wrists free. He scares easy, but he's also your doctor. Try to give him a chance." She watched the other's eyes for a time, her expression lighter. She then added, "And do me this one, tiny little favor: Whenever Tseng does come by, give him a chance to explain. You may like what he has to offer. I only ask you do this, and that'll be it. Will you do that for me?"

_Right. The plan-thing. Although, I guess I don't have much of a choice; do I? Or do I really...? _Cissnei hadn't implied any deviant intent, but Zack still wasn't sure what to believe.

At his quizzical turn of the brow however, the girl's next smile was more her own; the cryptic, if not slightly amused curl of lips Zack definitely remembered seeing when he met her for the first time. "Hear him out. That's all I ask," she pressed. "Please?"

And just like that, he was sunk. He hated it whenever a pretty girl added the lilting 'please' at the end. He always let that little bit get to him whenever he talked to girls like her, or Aerith, or that lady at the desk in the lobby some time back...

He could already almost hear Angeal yelling at him to straighten up and focus; so he let the thoughts it was, Zack blinked twice back in answer; his curousity winning out over caution and willful desperation. He moved his hands against his bonds, and then with the hand that Cissnei could see, raised a feeble thumbs-up.

This immediately brought a response from the girl; earning what Zack thought was her first true smile throughout this whole conversation. "Thank you, Zack," she replied in near sunny-warmth. "I'll let Tseng know. Minerva knows he needs to hear some good news for once."

She then dipped her head a bit, her expression borderline jubilant for her standards. Her usually timid smile was a fleeting flash of pretty teeth. She turned to leave next, her hair a beautiful, rusty-red and coppery ripple that bounced in her wake.

Welp, one thing's for sure: If he hadn't already met Aerith and almost actually died trying to see her again, he certainly would've tried harder to encourage that sharp-dressed spit-fire to date him sooner. He'd forgotten how cute she truly was when she's 'real' with him. Its the part of her that always drew Zack back in despite his mixed emotions towards her.

_If only she's like __**that **__more often. More... herself_, he thinking on his part, but its a pleasant thought no less.

Still, he quietly lie back and closed his eyes; his mind nonetheless floating on silver wings back to the little angel down under- To the one thing he _definetely _remembered letting his dying thoughts linger over. He breathed hoarsely through the tube and marveled at the fact that he's still _alive_; that he had a chance to get out of here, as Cissnei said. Maybe, _just_ maybe, he could still have the chance to see her again.

Both she, and his spikey little buddy too.

* * *

~777~

As it turned out, Cissnei's visit actually helped remove whatever other negative thoughts might've haunted Zack prior to her arrival. Funny how a cute girl's encouraging words could do that to a guy; even if there's some trust issues between them. Then again, any red-blooded dude would feel a bit better about sticking around after such encouragement and prospective, hopeful rumination hinting at the positive.

_Especially _when there's not a Hojo in sight, true to the girl's proclamation.

Nonetheless, this 'Hendel' came in not long after. This string-bean was one of those nerdy punching bags that bowed over easy enough; and was apparently the one who knocked Zack out when he tried to get free. Thankfully, he didn't seem crooked or odd upon further scrutiny- If Zack had to describe the guy, he'd say he's kinda eccentric: Too serious, maybe a touch too absorbed into his work, but a straight-forward guy all around. He even apologized to Zack about the incident with some evident sincerity, his smile small but genuine when it actually reached his hazel eyes.

The main difference was that this guy usually drank too much freaking caffeine. _Like too, freaking, __**much**__. _He's a hyper-active hamster on a sugar rush at some hours. He probably slept a grand total of three hours max whenever he seemed to have a charge to care for. The especially weird thing about this introvert was the patches on his noodle arms; Zack couldn't tell if they're nicotine patches or something else at first.

_Don't tell me it's yet __**more **__caffeine?_

Were caffeine patches actually a thing? He didn't know, but he hoped for this guy's well-being that they weren't. The last time Zack himself was introduced to such exorbitant amounts of the stuff was the last time Angeal ever took Zack to a coffee joint.

Thankfully he wasn't like that all the time; only when he had patients. And it seemed like at some encouragement from whoever he talked too in his off hours convinced him to get some decent sleep; seeing how he'd yet to make any mistakes while dealing with the ex-SOLDIER.

So of course, Zack wanted to like him; the guy was a wired, energized version of Kunsel all in all. If Zack didn't have so many issues with Shinra and its morally-conflicted and questionable employees to begin with, he'd be okay with him. Sadly, too many times Zack's been burned trying to befriend the co-workers; so of course he's a _little _paranoid about making more. Especially after that lobby lady.

Still, Zack managed to take Cissnei's advice and calmed his jets some; just enough to comply with some of Hendel's instructions as his body recovered. The man even had Full-Cure materia; speeding along Zack's progress at a drastically swifter pace (although his healing from the mako energy might've been a huge contributor). How the guy come to claim such a rare crystal was beyond the former SOLDIER's guess, but its not like he could ask him anyways. He merely logged the detail and put it aside for another day. He's thankful enough for the fact that what could've taken six or more weeks was shortened to about half. Zack had already been here almost two, so there's that.

During the last few days since her first appearance, Cissnei visited whenever she could- when she wasn't on a job that is. She kept their one-sided conversations short, never talking about what she's doing in extended detail. Its a thing between them- they both never fully opened up about their jobs, seeing how the company rules kept mouths effectively and profoundly zipped shut. Zack understood the sentiment, but he wished there could be a day when the girl in front of him would open up some.

_Or Aerith too for that matter. She always seemed to hide something, _Zack mutely pondered. Nonetheless, he paused and couldn't help his huff in frustration; the act within itself no less difficult even though his lungs had mended well._ ...But, on another note, _suddenly came the random brain-wave._ I don't think Cissnei's ever told me her real name! _

He mutely resolved to ask once he regained his ability to speak.

Zack also told himself during his long hours here at this hidden Turk hospital that he'd find some way to get the people around him to confide in him one day. He wanted people to be more comfortable around him; he couldn't bear to watch them suffer in silence anymore. It certainly seemed to stand true for himself after all that's happened to him in the last few months-

Minerva knows he'd spilled his guts to Cloud when he'd been in a vegetative state: Granted, it wasn't therapy, but it's pretty damn close. It kept Zack sane during his frantic flight throughout the world; merely talking to the mute blond in the long lulls between fight or flight had helped him considerably; emotionally speaking.

Apparently all these hidden agendas, lies, or half-truths were what got him here in the first place: Gods know Sephiroth could've come out of his armored shell more as an example- But the man was always taciturn. Eventually, his withdrawn, reticent nature might've even contributed to his blind and deafening madness. Sephiroth hadn't had many friends except _literally _a handful to start with- and so Zack was compelled to believe said factor only added onto the guy's list of problems. He snapped from the weight of it all; keeping all of his emotionally-charged pain chained and imprisoned into himself. Throwing himself into a self-imposed solitude with only a mountain of a mad-man's written works for company was just not good for your health.

_Its the final straw that broke the chocobo's back. What a way to go._

Cloud was similar in some ways, but his biggest problem was this inferiority complex he had going. It sometimes got emotionally exhausting just _watching _the little guy mope around. _He really needed to get laid_, Zack had playfully joked once or twice. But it seemed to be true too- The little guy mentioned this _one_ girl he had an eye on; and he wanted to get into SOLDIER for her. It was silly, but an honest dream.

Zack shook his head free of these thoughts, focusing on the check-up he's getting from Hendel today. Thankfully the man had taken out the thing-a-ma-hoosit from Zack's deflated lungs, but he'd left the respirator mask in place. He told him its to encourage healing or some other jibber jabber, but Zack's focus wandered after some point. Medical mumbo jumbo always did that to him.

So he kept the mask on, seeing how breathing on his own was still a bit of a stretch any how. At least his chest wasn't holier-than-thou anymore; and he had some semblance of speaking capability given back to him as well. However, he'd have to slow and sparse with talking. Having that thing in his throat for so long left his voice a hoarse, withered shadow of its former timbre. It also took a _lot _more energy than one would think. Who knew? Zack certainly didn't.

Some six days after his awakening, probably thirteen days after his stand in the wastes if his estimates was correct, Tseng finally deighned to visit Zack in his claustrophobic cubical.

Hendel waited for Tseng to appear before leaving himself, his smile lazy but honest. He'd walked up to Tseng and said right there, "He's doing fine now. Thanks for the help."

This statement in turn baffled Zack; leaving the man to wonder what it is that Tseng himself could've possibly contributed here when he'd been absent all this time. But then, his query was quickly rendered moot when he saw Hendel give Tseng the Full-Cure materia he'd been dedicatedly using for the last while.

_Wait. Wait, wait, WAIT. What the fu-? That thing belongs to __**him**__? Aw come on! Turks always get the best stuff._

Tseng put the materia in his suit somewhere, concealing it from view before Zack could finish drawing breath. He then lifted his steady gaze and blinked lazily, taking in the other's condition and nodding. "Zack," he started casually. He paused as he evaluated Zack's sobriety, and then added almost cheekily, "It's good to see you again. At least you're not in a body bag. I thought I'd have to bury you when you first came in. On that note though, you still look like death."

_Hello to you too._

Zack felt his mouth purse, wondering why the lead Turk took so long to finally come by. Still, getting a greeting like this was unusual considering the kind of person Tseng was. In a way though, the frankness assured Zack that the following conversation _should_ be fairly lax. A good sign, if nothing else.

He gave the Turk an appraising once-over, suddenly realizing that he hadn't seen the man in _years_. This stark truth certainly startled Zack, and left him sincerely morose at just how much time he'd lost thanks to a certain scientist in particular. Nonetheless, he noted the not-so very altered appearance of the man before him; promptly putting the dark thought aside.

Tseng of the Turks was _literally_ his name. Zack had never heard any other surname used for him. In fact, its a thing he observed from all members of the branch; that no one singular person seemed to posses so much as a remote connection to anything familiar or as personal as a family name.

As for the man in question, Zack noted that the only real difference in his appearance was his lack of a pony-tail. And as small an observation as this was, it did leave Zack questioning why this stickler before him would break such an obvious rule like letting his hair touch his crisp and clean uniform. Tseng's usually a prime example of all things Turk in the truest sense; but such a breach in protocol like this was note-worthy.

Whatever the case, Zack filed away that detail for the moment and cocked his head, watching as Tseng found the chair Cissnei usually occupied and drew it up. He sat just a meter shy of the bed, his eyes far more lined than Zack had ever recalled in recent memory. He leaned back and let out a soft, almost inaudible curse; one the ex-SOLDIER couldn't make out over the machines' din.

"I apologize for the long wait," he began, ignoring the flashing emotions streaking across the patient's face. "I suppose I could bore you with a reason that'd only sound like an excuse, but I won't be getting anywhere with you after five years. Not a good way to kick us off I believe."

Zack opened his mouth to speak, but his lungs constricted again; all he did was cough into his respirator- effectively grossing himself out. Tseng looked ready to get Hendel, but Zack lifted a hand and motioned in an effort to betray the lesser threat of the minor mishap.

After he recovered, Tseng sat back and withdrew a small notepad and pen, handing it to Zack, "Use this. Try to take your words slow and give yourself time. If you have questions, I'll do my best to answer them."

_Or omit the truths like you Turks usually do_, he almost said aloud.

Zack recalled Cissnei's pleas some days ago and weighed the idea: Apparently whatever Tseng had to say was supposedly important, but he seemed content to let Zack have his fill of answers for now. Best to take advantage of it then while the other was in what he figured was a generous mood.

Zack started to scribble as fast as his clumsy, still kinda-tingling hand could allow, his excitement hurrying the strokes. His shoulder hurt sometimes, but he ignored it. He decidedly asked about Aerith first and foremost, and then inquired about his parents. He asked how many other people knew he's alive, and how long he had to be here. He'd been scribbling for a solid five minutes while Tseng patiently waited, the man obviously 'enthralled' by his own thoughts. At one point he took out his cell and flipped through it with a heavy, dull expression but put it immediately away once Zack returned the notepad.

Upon seeing the first question, Tseng couldn't help but smirk minutely, "Of course you'd ask about Aerith. Can't say I didn't see this coming." Zack gesticulated with now freed hands but Tseng waved him off, "Don't fret; you'll be happy to know that she's perfectly fine. She's been... a little busy here and there. And before you ask, yes, we've continued to keep tabs on her; but didn't do anything to jeopardize her well-being. As of recently though-"

Suddenly the ex-SOLDIER found himself swallowing. Apprehension coiled within his belly like a cornered snake for some unforeseeable reason.

"Aerith has... well, she no longer resides in Midgar as we know it." Tseng's usually deadpan stare carefully scanned Zack's own shocked one, his calm a stony force. "-Her mother left as well," he continued. "The house was found empty upon inspection. It seems Mrs. Gainsborough had no intention of returning either; at least as far as we know. There's quite a lot of personal belongings missing.

"As for Aerith, she seems to have found herself in some rather 'unusual' company recently," He carefully worded. "-Not that said company is outwardly hostile towards her; quite the contrary really. They seem protective of the girl, and Aerith seems to find their presence tolerable. We've managed to track their trajectory and extraporlated their destination to Kalm. I wouldn't be surprised if at this point they'd left the town and headed East."

Zack wasn't sure if Tseng was being honest about all this, or if he's deliberately concealing certain tidbits of information at the moment. Still, he couldn't really see the guy actually lying about his 'charge's' well-being after so many years. However, Zack couldn't help wondering when is it that Aerith; the shy, soft-spoken girl he knew to fear the sky swallowing her whole, has ever found the courage to walk out beneath it. Without _him_.

So how much of her life _has _he missed while he'd been asleep?

He hung his head and sighed, feeling his sadness creep back after his initial relief and shock. A part of him really wanted to verbalize so many questions about her; seeing how writing them down would take too long. He could speak, yes, but the damage was extensive enough to limit speech for now; not to mention that talking was actually too _tiring_ for him at present. Plus this little bit of news to him, and then he _really _wished to just curl up and be left alone for five-ever.

Hendel had told Zack not long before Tseng showed up that his wounds would heal almost completely with no true lasting repercussions; given he didn't do anything strenuous. This was in-turn good to know; but the bad news left a dry, bitter taste in his mouth:

Apparently the injuries, shock, and experimentation; among other stresses from running around the world have finally caught up to Zack. He could in fact 'relapse' if he didn't take his meds regularly and perform his assigned breathing exercises. Worse yet, even when he walks out of here, he still had to wear this _horrid _oxygen mask for a short while despite his hyper-accelerated rejuvenation. Its temporary, but an annoying inconvenience for someone with no sense of patience.

Still, Zack managed to find enough breath to weave his next query, almost regretting breaking his silence when it left his neck feeling over-stressed already. But he had to ask; _had _to know if all of his efforts to see her proved in vain like its already appearing.

"Is she... *wheeze* ..._seeing _someone?"

And then he wished he didn't ask. Period. He wanted to take it back immediately when he saw Tseng's brow give the smallest, most microscopic twitch ever- and yet its something Zack caught.

"I wouldn't really know," the man told him, his voice wooden. "I _wouldn't_ think so, seeing as her current companions are rather recent additions."

"-But?"

He shook his head, "I don't know, Zack. We may watch her carefully; Hell, I have two of my men on her trail right now, but we don't exactly know how she feels about these people she's with beyond what I've already told you."

_Fucking Hell. You can't just tell me this shit and not expect me to ask._

"As for your other questions," Tseng interrupted his sideways thoughts, trying to derail this train before it drove itself into a corner. "-Your parents are fine as well. No changes have actually come to them."

Zack nodded at him to proceed, briefly considering contacting them somehow. He'll have to ask Tseng about talking to them now that Shinra was off his tail. No Shinra meant no danger to them, right?

_Don't jinx it_, he told himself.

"-As for your fourth question, thanks to Hendel's work and the materia, you won't have to be here more than another week. Hendel planned on allowing you some mobility liberties now too. I'd think he'd keep you a little longer, but I'm sure you wouldn't agree to that readily."

_You damn right I wouldn't! _

The news was mixed to Zack; but he understood. His legs would probably give if he stood on them for too long right now; seeing how he hasn't used them since the wastes. And as irritating as waiting a week to leave was, he knew the doc was a fretful man who doted on his patients.

On the side, he also wanted get right on Aerith's trail _himself _and see if the group she's with were actually any good to her. Tseng didn't seem overtly concerned, but the man obviously didn't really seem to fully confide in these guys to watch out for her either; and that's what had Zack concerned.

Nonetheless, Tseng continued; his tone somewhat stiff, robotic. "As for the last query, only seven people all-in-all know you're alive. This also brings me to the true reason for this visit." He leaned in and steepled his hands together, giving Zack the full weight of his inflection-less attention. "I want to keep it at that; any more people privy to your continued existence will compromise the Turks. Shinra may believe you dead, but it doesn't mean that you're clear to do as you see fit."

Zack snorted and narrowed his eyes, hackles rippling with dread. So much for his plan of seeing his parents again. He'd done jinxed that idea.

So said the other, "With things as they stand in Shinra right now, the situation is unstable. It could be perceived as a chance for you to escape unnoticed into the world completely anonymous; to probably vanish from society as a whole-" He shook his head then, "-But with the appearance of several rogue factors, I'd think otherwise."

_Of course he does. That's just my luck._

Tseng settled back, his wooden gaze relenting. He added with a scoff, "-Then again, That's just my opinion. You probably, most-likely _could _leave Shinra for good, scott-free, on your own, with no one the wiser- but you're also not a selfish person." He relaxed some, as if satisfied with finally coming to the meat and potatoes of the convo. "You can't really enjoy your freedom if your friends couldn't be a part of it; that's why you never left that other subject behind at any point, even though he _clearly _slowed you down; and almost died as a result of."

At Zack's scowl, Tseng added, unperturbed, "This said, I couldn't help think that even if and when the Turks recovered you, what should we do with you there-after? Your freedom means a lot to you, but you wouldn't have much interest in it anymore if you can't interact with the people you knew before all this. You'd probably involve Aerith in it at some point; possibly throwing a wrench into whatever we do. You're quite effective at being a disruption in Shinra operations; whether intentionally or not. You have the know-how, the experience, and the drive to be a threat if given enough incentive."

Tseng propped up a leg on the other, his gaze stoic, "Said incentive, bringing us right back to Aerith; whom you know Shinra has an invested interest in. I can only imagine that any further actions on the Turks part would invoke you to take action hence. So, I've come to this thought: If we're to somehow let you go despite knowing all this, wouldn't it prudent to, say; have Aerith effectively removed from Shinra's sights as well?"

Zack tilted his head at this, immediately wondering what Tseng was getting at. Why's he being so blunt for anyhow? Didn't he just say Aerith was running rampant somewhere in the world with no help from himself? Wasn't she technically free of Shinra?

_No... She's not. She's still got Turks on her ass like stink on a Nibel skunk. _He inclined his weight against his pillow, his gaze carefully guarded as he watched Tseng. _Something's not right here, _he suddenly noted._ So, whats his game? What's he even getting at anyway?_

"Explain," Zack croaked.

"I will," he replied coolly. "But first, I'm sure even a little part of you may want to know the true scope of these 'rogue' factors I mentioned? These portents are something of a need-to-know for someone of your unique position."

Zack narrowed his eyes further, but Tseng merely kept his expression level. Still, when he gave Zack his answer, he almost wished he didn't know.

"Recently, Midgar's been under siege. To kick off this week, not long after we found you, two reactors blew to Hell and back _and _the main building itself was infiltrated by its destroyers not long after," Tseng's poker face was set firmly into place as he said this, modulated tone indifferent. However, Zack knew the man was aggravated by these occurrences; if that vague squint of his eye was anything to go by.

"-And to add to that mounting list of problems, and as loathe to tell you this as I am," He went on in a somehow blander voice than before. "-The Sector 7 plate fell into the slums below; causing massive destruction and killing many. Shinra's in the midst of digging out the bodies as we speak."

Of all shit storms to whether; Zack most certainly wasn't prepared for this one. This kind of bombshell left an explosion of emotion to bloom like a dark mushroom cloud across his face; violently ripping away whatever other thought had been in mind. It had been a rather straight-forward delivery, and so thus shook Zack to his leaden core. His first thought right after hearing this was whether or not Aerith and her mother did escape alright, but then he recalled Tseng's earlier words and let out a mild breath of relief.

_No wonder Elmyra left her house. Its too freakin' close to where that thing fell!_

On another, more unrelated note; if it wasn't Sephiroth delivering grisly news in such a frank manner before, its Tseng or Lazard when the latter had been around. And man were all three of these guys the straight definition of _blunt force trauma_.

Tseng elaborated with some sullen hesitation, "That isn't all. Apparently, the night the building was infiltrated, an attack took place from the R&D floor up. A trail of destruction left more than thirty or so men and women- the majority being pencil-pushers- dead all the way up to the president's office. The president himself was also counted as a casualty."

_"Holy..."_ Zack's whispery voice broke. It wasn't in any concern mind you; but its the shock value that compelled him to speak.

"-Rufus has taken over as president," continued the usually clandestine man. "As for the killer, he left for destinations unknown. On his trail are the perpetrators; AVALANCHE; who escaped in the chaotic aftermath."

"_Wait,_" Zack coughed, holding up his hands to stop the influx of info. He gesticulated for the notepad and Tseng complied. After writing his queries, he handed it back and waited for the man's reply.

Tseng nodded and said in response, "I can see how this could be confusing- I did speak of the perpetrators and killer as if they're two separate entities." At the nod from the bed-ridden SOLDIER, the Turk detailed the truth, "AVALANCHE, as you're no doubt familiar with, has been a thorn in Shinra's side for years. They've been rather pro-active as of late: They're the ones who blew the reactors and broke into the building and caused only some mild confusion and havoc. It wasn't that hard; we-" Zack guessed that meant the Turks in general, "-did clean-up and arrested them before too much was said and done. They were contained shortly there-after. Still, as coincidental as it is, another person broke in that same night not so long after their incarceration."

His already grim expression grew darker, "_This _person killed everyone in the upper floors single-handed, allegedly taking a specimen Hojo had in storage. Due to the nature of Hojo's work however, there's no cameras in his lab that caught the killer taking said specimen. Merely visual proof from a half-panicked staff member was all we had; along with messy trails and broken equipment." Tseng took a breath here and said, "AVALANCHE only stayed in their cells, unaware of what's happening just outside their hall. Due to the commotion the killer caused, they're able to get out of the building and escaped Midgar."

"And... *wheeze* -The killer?"

Tseng folded his arms, his expression planted on the floor. His calm completely fled his face, and left an amalgamation of somethings that Zack couldn't make out. Needless to say, his best description of it was troubled.

"We... Well, there was _one _survivor of the attack: You remember Palmer at all? No?" Zack shook his head. "Well, he's head of the Space division. He must've been coming to speak to the president. However, the killer came in and exchanged words with the man, either negligent or unaware of Palmer's presence; and killed him there-after. Palmer's words were garbled, but he claimed that- and here's the kicker: That _Sephiroth _of all people did it."

One bombshell just after the other; wonderful. Could this day get any worse?

"-And as if to confirm his frantic ramblings, actual video surveillance caught a brief glimpse of the culprit heading into the room above level sixty-nine; true to Palmer's words," he confirmed. "Mind you, there's no cameras in the president's room, but the final nail on the coffin was his wounds: Deliberate, precision stab wounds to his vitals; and a missing katana from the SOLDIER's Armory storage."

_Yup, it could __**definitely **__get worse_, snapped the ex-SOLDIER. _Dammit Zack, QUIT. FRIGGIN'. JINXING IT!_

Zack shook his head once in distaste of the insight, but then in disbelief. "_How_?" he rasped. "Sephiroth... *wheeze* ...He died! In-"

"-Nibelheim, yes," Tseng interjected, stopping Zack before he got too exhausted. "But, as it were, it seems not a lot of things are adding up then."

Zack drew in his long legs and rested his arms on them, his expression warring between absolute fright, anger, and other sensations of this nature. Tseng seemed almost equally as affected and dipped his head in thought.

"I know this is a lot for you to digest. I digress," he went on in a lower tone then before. "But I'd figured you'd learn about this from someone else soon enough anyway. This news- with the exception of Sephiroth's survival- is being spread around and people are beginning to wonder."

_Good._

Zack snapped out of it when that rogue thought came to mind. Why was this news any good? People would start to panic upon hearing a dead man's name- especially once they hear that said individual was once a former hero whose killing indiscriminately left and right like some vengeful, genocidal manic with no sense of discrimination or pity. Sephiroth was an well-oiled war machine both before and after he 'died'.

_But then again..._

Zack snapped his fingers and received the notepad again, scribbling down the question whose answer he began to suspect.

Tseng looked it over and noted the wary, but well-concluded intelligence in Zack's knowing gaze. He came straight out with it as he said, "Yes, Zack. AVALANCHE is being blamed for what Sephiroth did, as you suspected."

"Called it," he rumbled lowly, and then clearing his throat when it tightened.

"-So you're aware of the reasons why then?"

Zack leveled his strict gaze on the Turk and blinked twice; remembering Cissnei's advice. Tseng seemed to note the gesture and withdrew into himself, folding his arms in the process.

"So... *wheeze* ...What're you gonna do?" The patient pressed. A part of him hoped Tseng understood the slew of questions beneath that one query; and the hope was well-received.

"I'm going to try to keep tabs on AVALANCHE and their movements; there's a certain person of interest amongst them that I find is of relevance to you." Once again Zack tilted his head, but Tseng continued on, "We're trying to devise ways of dealing with Sephiroth on the down-low; but not much comes to mind. We both know he has no equal, despite actions being taken into consideration for his return."

Tseng's eyes finally left the patient's for the moment, his facial structure going rigid at some elusive, shifting thought. After a minute passed in this manner, he glanced back and said with evident weariness, "As for you Zack, I only ask you get some rest. I think I've said enough for tonight." He rose from his seat and went to move a hand into his tux; suddenly whipping out a large, black case with yellow tape around it.

Zack blinked quizzically as he wondered how the guy managed to keep the fairly large box so well hidden. _Like how though-? How the Hell did he do that?_

"-I'll be sure to bring you the solution to your problems next time I visit. I hope you'll take my word for it when I say that this should; if it all works out, help not only you, but Aerith in the long run. And maybe perhaps..." Tseng's usually guarded, well-composed mask suddenly shifted and broke for a single moment after saying this, his words trailing off.

When he spoke next, its with a tone Zack has _never, EVER _heard from him before. It beheld traces of a vulnerable inflection in it; minute perhaps, but _there_. Any other stranger would've missed it otherwise. "-Would you, after hearing all this, at least consider agreeing to what I'm asking you?" He pressed. "-There's a lot at stake here; but its also demanding and questionable at best."

"And what... *wheeze* -are you asking for... _exactly_?"

Tseng's expression somehow became stonier, but magically softer in one way or another. "That you work with me without complaint," he clarified. "Do as I say, no matter how questionable it is, in the name of letting both you _and _Aerith go. That you're helping us, as in the Turks _only _and no one else, with our private dealings in Shinra. And maybe, you'll quite possibly find your _other _companion along the way too."

_He means Cloud! Is Cloud really-?_

Tseng took a long breath, letting his exhaustion show through briefly. The Turk then said, "You know, despite what you think, you still _do _have the choice to walk out on this as things stand; with no strings attached. However, I could only do this _with _your help." He jerked his head towards the exit, "I cannot emphasize enough that; without my embarrassing myself in the process, that you can in-fact leave once you felt well. You could go back to Gongaga to your family this time next week, if you really wanted."

The ex-SOLDIER sucked in a ragged breath, nearly hacking up another lung in doing so.

Tseng's already stiff expression seemed to grow yet more sullen than before as he said, "I don't like subjecting you to ultimatums, Zack... but you _do _have the ability to decide for yourself. You could either go and stay with your folks and be free of Shinra; living your life in quiet secrecy without drawing attention to yourself for the rest of your life- Or you can stay here, helping both me and the Turks free your two friends."

His free hand went to his Tilak; the mark in the middle of his head. He pinched the flesh there once and then added, "Long and short of it, I'm sincerely asking for your _help_. I apologize if I sound like I'm hanging some obscured threat over your head; but its not that. Not at all." His expression softened further, "Unfortunately, if I had to pull this on my own, I don't think no amount of planning on my part will ever bear any fruits otherwise. I can't free Cloud and Aerith without your help."

Zack blinked and cocked his head minimally. Tseng? Privately asking for his _help_? And for what exactly? To help Aerith and Cloud escape Shinra? Seriously; was he even _hearing _this guy right?

"As for this-" He said rather tiredly as he handed Zack the box. His expression seemed to lighten in just the smallest of ways, as if a great burden was being lifted. "I believe this rightfully belongs to you," he nodded. "And I can safely say to her that I've finally delivered on my word."

_...'Her'?_

When Zack carefully took it and looked it over, he found out immediately just what this thing contained:

All 88 of Aerith's other missing letters; wholly intact, unopened, and likely stacked in a predetermined order in which they're all received. He couldn't help but tremble as he eyed them; his stomach twisting around in slithery, maggot-filled wads. Reverently, he turned the thing over and picked at the tape, suddenly oblivious to Tseng's silent retreat to the door.

As for the Turk, he paused and glanced back at Zack; observing as the carefully-constructed composure the ex-SOLDIER has studiously endeavored to shield himself with tore away layer by layer. Tears shone from the corners of his ocean eyes, his patched, brutally-scarred chest giving an almighty heave on occasion. His weirdly bleached, almost bloodless hands shook, and his teeth briefly flashed beneath his respirator as a vast deluge of dysphoria drenched and drowned all other sensation in his war-torn gaze.

Feeling like an intruder, Tseng looked away; silently sauntering right out the door with Zack none the wiser.


	2. Introspective

~777~

Tseng returned four days after his initial visit, quelling any sort of apprehension he may have felt beforehand. Albeit, not quite as effectively as he'd hoped.

Upon arrival, he noted the dismally weakened Zack to be in dubious thought, his somnolent eyes locked upon the unopened box of letters. His hair was a matted rat's nest; he hadn't slicked it back, and his frizzy bangs were all over the place. His complexion was sallower than a corpse's; splotched with purple, yellow, and black in mottled variety all over his limbs. His nails looked like he's been nibbling at them; but Tseng wasn't sure if this was out of stress or a newfound habit he'd never known the guy to have.

Granted, Zack managed to look better and better yet for the past days he's been more active. Gaining back his mobility has most certainly improved his overall health as well as mental sense. Sadly, the more the man stirred, the less inclined he seemed to speak; and that wasn't due to the ventilator tube in his esophagus. Cissnei had told Tseng after her last visit that Zack hasn't been very responsive at all; barely saying more than a word or two in edgewise.

As for the ex-SOLDIER himself, whose glaring, lethargic hesitation was evidenced merely by a passing glance, he pondered the weighty object in his clammy palms. Zack wasn't entirely sure he had the emotional fortitude to tackle this new obstacle, and this was evident to Tseng. Idly, he turned the somewhat heavy case over and over, occasionally picking at the yellow tape and then stopping as if being caught in some unholy act of treason. The man frowned more and more deeply, his cyro-colored shards for eyes fierce but uncertain; as if resolved to find the answer to all of life's great mysteries but was being thwarted every step of the way. In a way, it wasn't too far from the truth, considering what he's been through.

The Director didn't ask; he needn't bother. It's bad enough he felt like he was encroaching upon a private moment of reverie. He faltered as he walked in, but in he went anyways. He then sat quietly beside the bed, waiting for the other to acknowledge him; not bothering to take out his phone or do anything else disruptive to the patient's likely turbulent thoughts.

Minutes passed in this pensive manner; Tseng counted six or so before Zack finally broke the silence with a low, hoarse, unenthusiastic "Hey". He lowered the box and glanced side-long, trying to plaster on a smile; one that could never reach his flat gaze.

"Hey yourself," the man tried, his best smile being a vague twitch of the lips.

Tseng was never a man to emote; and even when he did it wasn't very articulate. A lot of the time, his somewhat exaggerated gestures, wry words and general calm indifference expressed what his face couldn't. And even then, his subordinates could hardly make out what's on their leader's mind. Reno and Rude seemed best adept at understanding; they're more or less people persons. Even though Rude was just as silent as Tseng, the man knew what to look for.

Still, he hoped Zack knew he meant no true ill-will or deceit; their previous 'friendship' something he hoped retained its fragile weight. Tseng considered his compatriots a priority despite what most people thought; the Turks were secretly built upon _that _instead of the typical Shinra way. It was flawed, and mission objective was still so important; but after so many years of shared service (and the wise words of his previous superior), change had come to the Administrative department in increments.

Nonetheless, he privately wondered if Zack would fully understand what he came to disclose. Hopefully, he won't have to try to convince the weary and drained man to join his cause. He didn't want to force it; ultimatums besides. This was a delicate operation within itself; not unlike how he dealt with Aerith a lot of the time.

_Until recently._

Tseng wanted to ignore the oncoming dregs of regret he felt from his last interaction with the flower girl, but he instead turned the sensation into energy. He mentally told himself to do better in dealing with her; to be as methodical and gentle as possible. Harsh methods were what killed Aerith's mother after all; and he knew the girl would likely not forget that little out-of-character _smack _he handed her in the heat of the moment just as Sector Seven came down around their heads. This plan will hopefully put aside any other feelings of penitence on the matter.

_It has too_, he told himself.

Zack leaned back in his bed and heaved in an disinterested, or perhaps emotionally exhausted manner. His mask muffled the noise while still somehow magnifying it; if that made any sense. His hands were folded over the box of letters, now free of most of the I.V tubes he'd been fed for the last two weeks.

"So... Hendel says I could go," he began, his raspy, strangely unfamiliar timbre flat. He inclined his greasy head until he was looking at the ceiling, his formerly warm gaze indurate. "...But, I dunno _where _to go; ya know?"

Tseng nodded, recalling the medic's words before his arrival here. Hendel had told him as much; among a few relatively depressing bits of news too. The Doctor had stressed that Zack Fair was no longer as fit for duty; due to the varying degrees of stresses he'd undergone in his tenure in Hojo's test tube. That and his run across the world, his wounds, and Gaia knows what else.

_"His life, even though he's lucky to have it, has been... well," Hendel shook his head. "There's no pretty way to say this; but its been shortened. To a degree." He pinched his fingers a tad as he added those reluctant last words, his face a slightly toothy grimace. _

_Tseng could only look on, his expression rhadamanthine. However, internally, he couldn't help that minor, little, tiny bit of something akin to foreboding but ten times worse and denser than lead settle into his guts at these words. "By how much?" had been his slow reply, ignoring that minute churning of said innards._

_"Eh... I dunno exactly, but I've say, give or take a decade-?" Hendel answered with a flimsy calm, his face retaining that pained expression that embedded permanant worry lines into his brow. _

_Tseng shook his head, marveling at the doc's lack of professional delivery. _

_Noticing his own verbal mistake, Hendel continued lowly with, "I mean, that's not so bad maybe, but it depends on how he sees it, I believe." The doctor threw a tired look over his shoulder at Zack's door, his eyes solemn. "You know, that young man in there gave me the impression that his own life never really mattered much to him; so I suppose a few years lost to him over the extended life of his friend is a sacrifice he'd take. Right?"_

_**Yes. Willingly so, **__had been the director's unvoiced agreement._

_Tseng folded his his arms, his steeled expression calculated as ever. The answer was indeed obvious; and this the medic too could clearly see._

_Hendel sighed, "See, there's something else..."_

_A brow lifted then, the Turk bracing himself for whatever other bad news came his way._

_Hendel's expression darkened some; his eyes hooded. His already thin mouth slimmed further, "Apparently, Hojo's left traces of Sephiroth's cells in Zack's body, so I suppose its helped him survive what would've done in any other person; including other SOLDIERs'. But this is merely in __**theory**__; and I doubt he's reacted to their presence otherwise-" _

_He started rubbing at his left shoulder; his right hand busily scratching at the spot in a nervous tic. It's an area he usually put a patch on; although there wasn't one there now. "There's no telling what else it did though," he continued. "If there's side-affects, I would've thought he'd experienced them by now." _

_His suddenly down-trodden gaze took Tseng by surprise. "He may not have reacted to it yet... And maybe that's a good thing, but with Hojo's line of work-" The man's mouth ultimately evolved into a puckered and bitten, crooked line; his hazel eyes alert. "I'd doubt whatever he wrought, no matter how big or small; it would remain dormant. You may have to re-think your little - whatever you're doing."_

_"Do you really, __**seriously**__ think that whatever Hojo has done has some kind of repercussion?"_

_"I dunno. But-" Hendel leveled his most intense stare yet. "If there's anything you can do, just keep an eye on him: Even if you let 'im go, don't ever turn your back on Hojo's work. You never know what kind of crack-pot shit soup he's cooked up: Even his failed projects always had some __**bite **__to it."_

_The man went to leave, but then added over his shoulder, "Zack's a good sort, but he's not completely innocent or guiltless considering his own old trade. I'm just sayin', keep an eye on him for a bit. If he does somehow start reacting to it, let me know. __**Immediately**__."_

_"What should I be looking for?"_

_"You tell me," he replied. He then added in a gentler tone, "You know him better than I do."_

Beyond that, the other hadn't really said much. He did however supply, whether helpfully or not, something about "J-cell Toxicosis"... whatever that was. He heard of this condition before; but couldn't quite put a finger on exactly where or _when _he heard it.

He did know this: "J-cell" translated to Jenova cells; and of course Hendel would know due to being one of Hojo's technicians at one point. The term within itself was something Tseng picked up on from observing Hojo from afar. He also knew it had something to do with Sephiroth in some form or another, and that in-turn lead to this thought process:

Hendel still didn't quite imply that Zack would have _all _of the effects of that ailment per se, considering he's only infused with Sephiroth's cells. But, as far as they knew, one didn't know what even Sephiroth's mutated cells could do in place of Jenova's. This said, its given the Director the direction he needed, so to speak; and he's already built a plan on how to approach it.

One part involved understanding what Hojo's research meant for his friend, and what potential and risky effects it could have on him or the people around him. Another part involved actually finding Hojo; something Tseng was already investigating after the man's 'resignation'.

Still, there's one other detail the Turks Director hasn't forgotten: The other subject Zack rescued, Cloud, would presumably have similar problems seeing as he underwent the same processes. The lad was in AVALANCHE now too; and he yet possessed SOLDIER capabilities on par with Zack's despite having no prior training. That within itself was a suspicious development that intrigued and disturbed the Turk. So, pursuing information on the matter proved vital to in that essence.

_The more we know, the less darkness that shrouds our eyes and hinders our steps. _A frown curved his brow next. _But, the more information we get, _he noted. -_The riskier our continued existence becomes._

Whatever the case, this whole operation also involved actually getting Zack on board with doing Turk-like assignments usually reserved for people more experienced and qualified enough to do them. It involved sneaking around, spying, digging around in old research papers from Hojo's _and _Gast's old haunts. It involved visiting the very place where the nightmares had begun-

And it's something Tseng didn't want to ask his friend to do; but he didn't have the manpower to spare right now: That's why he promoted the newbie Elena into their ranks; not just because Reno was momentarily down and out. He thought adding one more person may help, but the girl was technically wet behind the ears.

She's a fresh set of eager eyes, but her views aren't as 'colored' as Zack's. She had a separate job of her own to do, and she's in the middle of getting some on-field experience right now (emphasis on manpower shortage). Worse yet, she's a bit too... talkative. Sending her to check out Tseng's delicate leads was something he'd rather have someone else do; no offense to the girl.

Zack however... _he _knew what to look for; even to an extent. He's familiar with the uncouth methods Hojo's employed. He knew where to look for the lie in the writing, even if it wasn't his forte. He's dug around sensitive matters like project G before, _and _has effectively buried some of these truths after dealing with the crisis it formed. He's dealt with delicate missions like this even if it wasn't SOLDIER standard; and he's been a reliable fall-out plan to back to should a crafty situation turn hairy.

Angeal and Sephiroth both vouched for this hot-blooded fool despite his foible quirks in years long past. Zack may have the attention span of floppy-eared pup at times, and was probably not the most discreet, but he was _reliable_. He's always strived to finish what he started once he set his mind to it- the trick was to iron-out his flimsy focus.

_And that dreaded SOLDIER steel and focus saved the other subject even when it was deemed a hopeless situation, _Tseng thought. _So of course Zack is qualified enough to do this; even just a little._

Besides, Zack also had the additional boon of being completely inconspicuous. Nobody knew he survived that harrowing battle except for the few Turks that dug him out of the bloody muck. And now, they all needed his unique and more direct expertise.

Tseng shook off the long-winded thoughts, noting Zack's intrigued expression. Apparently he'd been ruminating for so long he hadn't noticed the shift in the man's features. And Zack wasn't exactly subtle with how he felt; he's usually very open with his facial expressions even though he knew full-well how to guard his tone of his voice.

_A strange, maybe pointless juxtaposition._

"Hey uh, you okay?" he asked, his tone wary. His respirator hummed ceaselessly in the back drop, unnoticed largely. He moved in his bed until he faced the Turk more, "You're just kinda... spacing out here. I mean, I know I'm a damn fine piece of art, but we're not exactly standing in a gallery."

Tseng did let slip the smallest twitch of his mouth, his eyes lighting up vaguely. His chuckle came and went; fragile and fleeting in its existence. Seriously; only Zack could actually get a reaction out of him; and it seems to be charm that, if nothing else, has remained in tact despite all of the trouble he's been through.

"Its been... a busy week," Tseng started with, seeing as that's the truth.

"Right~" he drawled, temporarily forgetting the box in his lap. "Care to share-?"

"Do you really think I'd say if its such an issue? Personal or otherwise?"

A lop-sided shrug and whispery chuckle was his first reply. And then he said in a lofty tone, "Yeah... naw. You're the kind of guy who _never _has issues. You got your shit figured all the time."

"Glad you finally figured that out."

A snort escaped the patient, "Welp, I'd think someone who takes sass from someone like Heidegger would know what he's doin'."

"And Scarlet too," Tseng added.

At the mention of her name, Zack visibly cringed. "I certainly don't envy you. Hope she's not jerking you around _too _much."

This time, the smirk that eased its way to Tseng's face was a more permanent one. "You have _no idea_," he scoffed.

Both men settled, their expressions matched in some part. Still, there's that one creeping downer of a thought snaking its way to the forefront of their minds- And this resided in the reason for Tseng's visit.

Sensing the change in the mood, the patient sighed and crossed his legs; digging up the gumption to tackle this shift. "So uh, I considered your-" Zack started in earnest, tasting the words. His slightly thicker brows furrowed some, as if in distaste of the whole idea. "-Your _offer_. Proposal? 'Solution'...? Eh, whatever. I gotta know though; you said Aerith would benefit from this too, right? If I were to agree?"

Tseng inclined his head slightly, his crow-colored brow line ascending in slight nuance. The smile was gone; and the cold, usually enigmatic Turk facade was firmly rooted in place. "That's the plan," he confirmed.

Zack smacked his chapped lips, his throat likely parched no matter how much fluid Hendel had him drink down. He then said, "And... I'm not _actually _gonna be a Turk, or a member of Shinra, right? Not even a recruit-?"

Tseng nodded. "Having you signed on as one would draw scrutiny; like Heidegger's for instance. We certainly don't need his attention; let alone potentially Scarlet's. Not to mention your skill-set-" The man folded his arms, his voice as casual as Director Tseng of the Turks was usually known for. "Its not something ours is trained to use. Anyone could easily see you're the odd one out. It'll render secrecy moot."

Zack's azure stare was carefully blank; something Tseng didn't usually see on the man's face. Nonetheless, the Turk knew the kind of man the ex-SOLDIER was; and he knew exactly what he was going ask before it even became a thought.

"Just... wouldn't doin' this interfere with your whole mission?" He shook his head, "I'm just not gonna eat the crap fed to me: I wanna know why you suddenly want Aerith out of Shinra's sights for once when you've spent the better part god knows how many _years _eye-ballin' her."

"Fair enough," complied the Turk.

Zack seemed to shake himself out of his pensive reflection and leveled a rather hard stare at the man; his gaze deadpan. "'Fair enough'? Really?" he recited, his reply toneless. "You're just gonna up and tell everything?"

A faintly amused smirk carefully glided across Tseng's lips; calculated primarily. "Yes, Zack," he began with a sureness he thoroughly convinced himself to have. "I'm hearing your concerns and I'm assuring you that if you have any questions to field, I'll answer them as honestly as I can."

"...Including the stuff I don't know?"

"If its relevant, yes."

The ex-SOLDIER squinted at him, likely tasting the words. He turned away with a strongly apparent droop of the head; a muzzled animal resigning itself to its chains. To Tseng, the sight was a doleful gesture, and it certainly took him off guard. He didn't want the man to feel like he didn't have a choice at _all_.

Zack snorted at Tseng's reply initially, muttering a curse under his breath. He said, "If that's the best you can manage, then... okay. I'll do it. But you gotta be straight with me!" He pointed at the Turk sharply, incriminating; his icelandic gaze vivid. "No skimping out on the details! And if ya gotta start somewhere, then you gotta tell me why you suddenly want Aerith out of the picture- So to speak."

Tseng blinked, settling back into the seat with deliberate slowness. He wasn't sure what to make of the strange nature of the previous reply, but he put it behind him in favor of moving on with the conversation. A small part of him hesitated; knowing full-well that he _did _deliberately leave out said details during his previous visit.

_He didn't need to know all of those anyways, yet. He was weak and out of it then._

Tseng set the matter promptly aside; assuring himself to inform Zack at a later interval. For the moment, he did say, "You know, I'm not exactly forcing you to-"

"I _know_," he interjected, holding up a hand to stop the other. He wasn't being rude; but plainly he was exasperated. "But if it means that Aerith can get out of this too, then-"

He trailed off, but the unspoken words hung there; and Tseng knew for Zack, this wasn't a choice he'd take otherwise. There wasn't even one to begin with; Zack would do this whether or not Tseng had asked at all.

_Hendel was right on the money_, he pondered. _Zack may not have always known, but he services himself to others at his own expense. Its always been something he seemed to enjoy doing, at times. So maybe I should stop wasting my breath. Its a luxury Zack himself can really freely afford now as it is._

"So uh, what _is _the game plan?" Zack carefully asked. "And why d'ya want Aerith out it now anyhoo?"

The Turk shifted in his seat, hands folded in his lap and his eyes sharpened to obsidian slits. His lips twitched at the corners once, but then morphed into a thin slash. It was his 'business face' as Zack had affectionately (and some of the other Turks who heard him use it) called it.

"Let's get you out of here first," was his reply.

* * *

~777~

And less than a couple hours later, Zack was on his feet unencumbered by anything save for a small pack strapped over his shoulder and hanging at the back; holding a smaller, portable variant of his respirator. Shinra medical tech at its finest according to the doc. He wasn't wearing the mask anymore for the moment; breath came to him, albeit shallowly. As long as he didn't breathe too suddenly, or run or jump (or do anything strenuous at ALL), he didn't run into any difficulty. Squats were out of the question for now, and it made the man huff and throw his arms around in outrage briefly before he finally surrendered to Hendel's doting advice.

During the dressing process, Zack had evidently paused and looked over his physical form; his expression inscrutable. He moved his limbs around in full-range of motion to appease the doc; but winced a couple of times. His hand shot to his chest on the left side, his eyes drawn to a area briefly. Tseng couldn't but help frown as he watched, evaluating Zack's physical capacity as well.

_Definitely__ no field work for him yet._

Zack's body may have closed all wounds thanks to the materia (along with his natural accelerated regeneration), but the damage was still extensive. He had scars and a rainbow of bruises everywhere; the majority being concentrated on his chest. He had lacerations all over too, with most being on his wrists no thanks to Hojo and Hendel jointly. It didn't bother him; or at least that's how it appeared on the surface to Tseng. The rail-road map etched into his trunk was cringe-worthy however; layers upon layers of hastily healed, former bullet-holes and great canyons and pits from the surgery and stitches combined made it something Tseng could never forget.

"You can practically draw a map of Cosmo Canyon in it," Zack had sheepishly joked in a attempt to abate the tension.

Tseng felt a breath leave him. He'd almost failed in his search for him; _almost_. And, although he knew doing such a thing went against everything he's ever stood for in the Turks, he didn't regret saving Zack's life. Not at all. Still, he couldn't help wondering what kind of life his friend would have after this all pans out; given if it even does.

After said cursory check-up, Hendel let Zack leave with Tseng at his side, the two headed for the Turks' main Administrative building. There was a side 'suite' attached to it- where the members and recruits usually slept if they cared enough. However, with most missions being fairly lengthy, the general majority usually slept in areas outside Midgar. The building was practically empty most days; with the exception of the Director and a scant handful readying themselves for their next assignment.

On the contrary, Cissnei usually came here when she wanted to organize her thoughts; and Tseng was able to plan for certain operations (like his more recent, illicit one) here with no fear of scrutiny. He doled out most assignments here, so its a main base of operations of sorts. It had cameras and security detail; but both could be turned off or dealt with accordingly should Tseng select the options on his phone. There's also a helicopter landing pad on it at the top; one the Director himself personally used.

Granted, there's yet another side structure with a 'armory' attached to it; where the Turks and/or trainees could get their equipment before heading out. It wasn't like what SOLDIER or the army used, but it's feasible. Turks didn't really need huge or guady weapons; they specialized and divided to conquer. And its paid off most of the time.

Apparently, the weapons storage here was a jointed project by Heidegger and Scarlet; whereas some of the gear is used only after its SOLDIER 'tested'. Zack had groaned some while back, "Not only do Turks get the best stuff, but its also safe to use because of SOLDIER sacrifice." Still, this was their presumed destination to Zack; but Tseng had another, less conspicuous place in mind.

Both men sidled along as quietly as possible, being sure to avoid any busy areas Tseng knew where there's cameras, army grunt, or through traffic in general. People weren't an issue; but he still didn't want anyone seeing Zack Fair alive and well. He took out his phone once and sent in word ahead of their visit; hoping to clear the main lobby before anyone actually inspected his charge more carefully.

Zack of course didn't have much to cover with, except his new change of clothes he was given before their departure. The country boy wore a dark, navy hoodie with the cowl pulled all the way up; a large pair of boots similar to his waffle-stompers he wore in SOLDIER; and a cheap, fairly typical pair of dark gray jean pants. His pack had adjustable belts on it; so he could wear it over his shoulder like what he was doing. He could clip it onto his belt had he been wearing one. He looked shifty, but its all that Hendel and Tseng had to give him.

Funnily enough, he also had to go _commando _due to Tseng's deliberate lack of over-sight. The taciturn man certainly didn't want to go _that _far now, even for a friend he's risking his life and job for.

Nope. Not doing that.

Once they finally arrived at the Turks' complex, Zack felt a breath escape him; albeit a harsh one that left him clearing his throat. His hands slipped into his pockets too, feeling immediately out of place. Tseng meanwhile took out a key-card with his identification on it, slipping it into a keypad with a slider. He typed in a pin, and they were in.

"Man," Zack sighed, his tone bland. "You guys get a whole freakin' sweet-ass apartment complex slash office, and we grunt get the barracks. When you're first class, you move into a room of your own, sure, but its still kinda cramped."

"You know, I never figured you the downer," Tseng shrugged, trying to subtly spur Zack to snap back in some way. The guy never had been this... _depressing _before, and it certainly didn't suit him. Nonetheless, he casually added, "Though, some of us here in the Administrative division usually prefer some of the rooms in the Shinra building."

"That's probably 'cause you have better accommodations."

Tseng didn't reply to that initially; he was already leading the disgruntled man into the building. He then said, "You could just sleep in this place whenever you wanted to between assignments. Its not like you have anywhere else to go, right?"

"Huh?"

"-Call it a sanctuary at the moment," he added, trying to encourage him. A small and wicked comment curled the tip of tongue suddenly too, right out of nowhere. He withheld the words for a moment though, going on to suggest, "You'd have to call ahead so I could shut off the visual on the cameras here, but its somewhere you could curl up and no one would be the wiser."

Zack jolted and glanced at his friend, his eyes cautious, "...In this place? Really?"

A nod was was answer. "I can give you a room of your own. Absolute privacy for once," he kept his tone flat. But then he needled him with, "Think about it: Warm food, no hiding out, and you only answer to me. Plus an actual 700-hundred thread count sheets and quilt, down pillows... a glass of warm milk at any time-"

"Whoa dude. Hold up!" Zack jabbed a furious thumb to his chest and said, "I ain't no damn softie, man. Why the hell would I need all that prissy crap? Do I look like a Genesis groupie to you?"

Tseng merely chortled at him, "Could've fooled me. Didn't you join the Study group some years back? Or was it the Red Leather club I'm thinking? Both?"

His former fugitive slash charge flapped his gums at him in sheer indignation, his arms waving around ridiculously, "Dude come on! You can't seriously prove that."

"Oh ho. You really think I can't?" Tseng smirked.

Zack's jaw flapped back open, and then shut with an audible click. "Uh, I only did that 'cause I wanted this one chick's number. No harm done."

Tseng almost reflexively balked but suppressed the sensation, passing the other a strange expression. He knew Zack had been one hell of a flirt before his acquaintance with Aerith, but he didn't know of what _kind _per se. _He's more like Reno than he thinks_, he realized. _No wonder I hang around with him._

"Ah. So you finally admit it. Was this before, or after Aerith?" the Turk tonelessly inquired. "Because if it's after, then maybe I should return all her letters to her and tell you truly ditched her for a floozy-?"

"Freaking Hell Tseng. Who d'ya take me for anyhow? It was _before _I met her." He narrowed his crystalline eyes at him. "'Sides, ya wouldn't tell her I said that, would you?"

The Turk merely smirked in answer, "Don't tempt me."

"Hey!"

Zack muttered profusely, just about ready to tell him where he could stick Reno's magnetic rod until he scanned his surroundings: The main entrance to the building, the 'lobby' as its called, was actually a large room that looked more like a fancy, formal lounge room in some expensive Hotel. It had leather couches on either side of it, ottomans in front of them, nice decorative pieces in the form of artificial potted plants, and an apparently well-waxed linoleum floor. For Shinra, it was a bland, but a simple aesthetic none would complain about.

Directly ahead of them, there was an elevator door, likely leading to some of the apartment-escue rooms. There's a desk in front of it too, but Zack didn't know why there wasn't anything like a receptionist around it. Did this Turk residence actually need one though? Hell if he knew. There was a couple of computers and keyboards on either side too; for god knows whatever reason. There was also a funny little Zen bamboo fountain in between the monitors, likely a quaint detail in this dull place.

"Uh, not that I care or anything," he began, lowering his cowl and glancing about in a cautious manner. "But uh, whose the leader of the Turks anyway? Won't he know about me?"

A low chuckle escaped his companion, returning Zack's attention to him. "Oh, I think he already knows," Tseng smirked.

Zack frowned, "Like that isn't ominous or anything. You said only seven people know about me, right? Wouldn't your supervisor make eight? Or had he already been in the knowing-?"

Tseng lead the duo to the elevator, taking out his card again and typing in his pin again. "The latter," was his reply just as the thing dinged and he stepped inside.

Zack shrugged and followed him into the large cubical, lazily watching the doors shut and it began its ascent. "So, you never told me _who _exactly knows about me..."

Tseng promptly ticked off, "Me, Reno, Rude, Cissnei, Elena, Hendel, and the last one is actually someone who'd appreciate keeping his privacy."

_Granted, Elena knows by accident, _he inwardly added with a cringe no one could see.

The girl saw Zack's broken body getting dragged in by Reno and Rude; the two having struggled to get the large, dead-weighted man to a nearby gurney. They called for assistance (a dumb thing for Reno to do actually) and Elena had come loyally running despite never donning the full-uniform yet. She'd almost completely finished the remnants of her training and was being introduced to the hospital staff meant only for their group. She was also getting a physical from Sierra; their female doctor.

Sadly, her inclusion in this little entourage wasn't foreseen; and this occurrence was what compelled Tseng to seek her out afterwards. He intentionally told Elena he'd promote her fully into the Turks as well for the secrecy- seeing how the word was pretty much part of the job description. Elena had screeched with joy and and saluted, happy to actually talk to Tseng (in earnest) for the first time as well as technically getting her first official orders from him. Even with Reno's subsequent hospitalization Elena would've been seeing real work in no time.

_And, its not like she's lacking in enthusiasm and talent; considering her older sister._

"Aw come _on_, Tseng!" Zack's bemoaned. "How come he knows about me and I can't know about him?"

"Because," He returned with a sigh, his next words stiff. "-The man's more useful as an ambiguous source of information to the Turks as he is. And because that man is the only one outside of the execs that I'd answer too- ever."

"Oh goodie. An old dude whose too big for his britches," the other gripped. "C'mon Tseng, there's gotta be another reason for that-"

"Even so, he's asked me personally that he'll want to let you know if and when the time calls for it. And as an old friend, I will not deny his request."

"Huh. I guess that's fine," Zack seemed to nod.

"...'Fine'? So a friend's personal request is more a legitimate reason to you?"

Zack's slightly diminutive, crooked grin was light-hearted, "Well sure. Pretty much all of the rest of that sounded like "Because I said so" up until that last part. So I suppose that's a buddy's personal favor is good enough reason for me then."

"Hm."

The door pinged open at the top level of the building, yawning out to a large, windowed room with a broad view of the immense majority of Midgar's illuminated city-scape. The Shinra building's more imposing form at least sat behind them where it couldn't be largely seen. The one desk and two chairs both in front of and behind it were the only sources of furniture to be seen. There was a sizable triangular rug with the Shinra logo on the floor between the elevator and the desk as well.

"Wow," Zack snorted. "An impressive but boring and atypical mock presidential pencil-pusher's room! I mean lookit those chairs! And you were calling me a damn softie."

"Who're you calling a pencil-pusher?" Tseng shoulder checked Zack as he strode ahead, but the touch wasn't a harsh bump. For him, it was borderline playful. "I still do field work."

"...Wait," He abruptly shot past the shorter man and turned on the ball of his heel, jabbing a calloused finger at Tseng. "Wait, wait, wait. No way. This fancy-shmancy joint, this huge-ass office, your petty two-cents... Don't tell me-!"

Again, cue the rising eye-brow on Tseng's fairly laxed and faintly amused facade.

"Don't tell you're the... you're the Director's _secretary!"_

"Really Zack?"

Zack held up both his hands and smirked, "I'm kidding. Kidding! You're the Director himself then, right?"

Tseng moved past him and said, "Yes. Although its a fairly recent promotion though."

"And something you're gonna bore me with, right?"

Tseng sat in the large leather wheel chair behind the desk, motioning over to the seat opposite of him. "Maybe another time," he scoffed.

"Huh," Zack sniffed, taking so-said seat. "So now you're a prim and proper, freaking posey-picking, snooty, spoiled secret-agent man with a little extra lee-way. Betcha gettin' paid more than the others too."

"Not quite," snarked the other. "They do more outside work nowadays, seeing how we're so few. I'm working on getting a pay-raise for them."

"Could you even do that?"

"Maybe."

"Better food too?"

"Why not?"

"Lemme guess; cavalier every night?" he nettled with a coy brow twitch.

"Yeah, sure. _Every _night."

"_Spoiled..._"

Tseng smiled and steepled his hands together. "Its a living," he teased.

_Now this is the Zack fair we know_, he inwardly laughed.

Zack randomly decided to be a complete jerk and rudely propped his feet up on the desk, lazily reclining in his seat. Tseng would've swatted his boots away, but Reno did very much the same thing every time he came in here. He knew Zack would just shove his toes right back into his face if he said anything. _Let the guy have his little bit of fun, _he figured.

"So," began the former SOLDIER. "Ya gonna tell me why you suddenly want Aerith out of the way? You told me you'd answer whatever I asked-"

A sigh left the other, and then Tseng leaned back into his own chair with his hands folded neatly together. "I did say that, didn't I?"

Zack twitched his brows, his lips lifted in a subtle and small leer.

Tseng decided to indulge the man's barely masked impatience and started out with, "Alright then. Once I start, you should know that its going to take some explaining. I'll try to skip the details you already know. So _try _not to interrupt."

"No promises," he smirked. "Fire away, _Director_."

"Hm. Very well, let's start with what I told you then, right before your last deployment," He shifted in his seat, his eyes hardening. His tone sharpened too, "-Aerith's life is invaluable, as you know. There's no replacement for her, her lineage, nor her powers. As the last Cetra, Ancient, whatever you want to call them, she's a person of perpetual interest to Shinra."

"But why?" Zack inquired. _First interruption_, the Turk noted. "-Why would the company want a Cetra?"

Tseng's next snort was a contemptuous one; he never usually did such a thing. The good mood has been officially thrown out the window by now. "Its because," he intoned. "The previous president wishes to pursue some pipe dream. He believes in finding the 'Promised land'- a place where mako energy gushes freely from the crust and-"

"-It practically spouts money."

"Right." _Second interruption._

Zack's mirth was all gone now; the young man now deadly serious. Its like flipping a switch whenever matters pertaining to the girl were ever mentioned; even in passing. "That's it?" He spat. "Endangering Aerith's life over some petty child-like fantasy is apparently okay to them? No, I shouldn't ask," He looked away and folded his arms.

The Director proceeded with, "Well, unfortunately, Rufus Shinra seems to have a similar interest in it; although the man has never really been driven exclusively by wealth. The new president has always been rather particular." His thinner brows drooped some, his mind churning. "And with Sephiroth's reappearance, Rufus has adopted a more pro-active approach and decided to pursue Sephiroth openly for the same reason the company wants Aerith: because he believes that Sephiroth is an Ancient as well."

"Sounds familiar. But... is Sephiroth _really _a Cetra?" Zack was apparently remembering something Tseng couldn't quite understand. _Probably something Nibelheim-related_, was his guess considering his severe dip to cold anger. "Still though, you'd think the company could've tried to use his special powers to find this place if he'd actually _had _the ability. So, wouldn't that mean he isn't one then? That Aerith is the genuine article-?"

"You'd think so, and yes, you're absolutely right. They _have _tried in the past to see if anyone born from the various branches stemming from the Jenova project has had the powers. And as you saw, nothing's worked."

"So Rufus is essentially chasing this maniac for no reason?"

Tseng's eyes migrated over to the other side of the room, his gut tight. "I suppose that's true. Yes," he confirmed.

Zack was giving Tseng this look like he'd sprouted a second head; likely wondering why the Turk wasn't really going out of his way to pull Rufus out of this reckless endeavor. Right now though, the president should be preparing for his inauguration ceremony in Junon; if he isn't already in bed. So for the moment, the man wasn't in any true danger. After the parades and speeches were done and the boat was prepped, the new president would depart in favor of chasing after the rogue Sephiorth.

Tseng questioned his superiors and their motives sometimes, but it wasn't a frequent thing with him. He didn't like questioning his job, but he did so anyways. Granted, Rufus' pursuit truly _did _sound like a fool's errand. _He always did hate being on the sidelines,_ he acknowledged. _But I don't necessarily agree with it. I should be trying to capture Aerith in earnest and telling the president the over-powered homicidal nightmare he's going after is a waste of time- _

_But I don't wish to see Aerith hurt anymore._

"By all rights and purposes-" Tseng kept his hands together, his stony eyes arrested on Zack. Talking with the ex-SOLDIER always did get his mind rolling. "I should be handing the girl to our new president to dissuade his reckless pursuits, but Aerith's fragile life is truly one in all of our world. Locking her up in a lab for the rest of her days is no way to approach this. I'd wager it be counter-productive as well; even if Aerith did know where the Promised Land was, or if it even _exists_, she wouldn't show it to Shinra on a whim."

Tseng sighed again, reluctantly admitting this much, "Throughout all of my years trying to coerce the girl into cooperating peacefully, its never worked, and I believe it never would. Aerith's a stubborn sort despite her gentle personality." He shrugged, his shoulders a slight bob. "It can't be helped. On another note, even if I did truly want Rufus to understand that he's in a blind goose-chase, he'd need ample proof. He'd want to physically see if Sephiroth is truly not an Ancient. Sadly, as lamentable as it is, I have no such thing to show him either."

_Or unless I capture Hojo and have him explain directly if Sephiroth truly is what he is, _Tseng shook off the suddenly intrusive thought, but its one he filed away for later.

"He wouldn't just, I dunno, take your word for it? Its not like you're a newb, Tseng. You've got years on ya-"

"I know. But Rufus is pragmatic; probably more so than I," Tseng shrugged again. "And, even if he did take my word for it, you and I both know how Rufus would deal with anyone holding back on information. I'm afraid that, should anyone from the Administrative branch actually approach him with this, the Turks may wind up dismantled. We're not exactly on the best of terms with the big wigs right now."

Zack actually raised a brow at him, "What the Hell did you do to get ya landed in the hot-seat?"

Tseng shrugged, "Skirting company rules, cutting corners, and choosing to back our own members instead of bosses. The usual. Mind you, our continued use was the only reason we weren't lynched."

"_Jeez. _You gotta tell me how that went down sometime," Zack crookedly smirked.

"Hmf. At any rate," Tseng waved it off. "-As for the question you keep asking, the one about why getting Aerith to safety is so important, how about I reply with an _example _instead?"

Zack blinked three times and tilted his head. Tseng knew he certainly had his attention then.

"Very well," The man decided. "I'll start with an interesting case from maybe some fourteen years ago, give or take." He straightened his posture and sat up some; feeling his lack of sufficient sleep nip at him. He ignored it of course, but then opened up the story with, "Around the time Gast resigned, he had a fair lady on the arm; who had no known association with Shinra beyond him: She wasn't a scientist, a desk worker, nothing of the sort. Ultimately, she was just a simple civilian that usually went out of her way to avoid Shinra, funnily enough. Her name was Ifalna; a lovely, vibrant, colorful woman who's every bit the girl Aerith is. She's Aerith's biological birth mother after all; and therefore a true, full-blooded Ancient-"

There goes that tilt again; Zack's intrigue was now truly centered around his words. "Now hold up," Zack gesticulated excitedly, his mind likely catching onto the information. "Is Gast, like as in _the _Doctor Gast, actually Aerith's _dad _or something? Is _that _what I'm hearing?"

"Presumably, yes," Tseng confirmed. "Seeing as Gast had tried his best to hide his new, lovely wife from Shinra then. If fact, his relation with Ifalna could've been the reason for his desertion."

"Dude. _What the actual-_" Zack slapped a hand to his forehead, his eyes wider than platters. "Whoa... So like, Aerith is legitimately Gast's daughter-?"

"That's what I've been telling you, so yes."

Zack slumped backwards in his seat, shaking his head as if knocked senseless by some concussive blow. "Wow... just _wow_. Does she even know?"

"Now that I'm not sure of," Tseng shrugged. "Although she's never actually asked me for any information pertaining to whoever her father was. She never showed any signs or interest in him."

"Huh. So uh, did you ever actually meet Ifalna?" he entreated, sincerely showing interest in the story when he leaned towards Tseng; his busy arms finally sitting at rest on his knees. At the very least, he seemed to be recovering from this information swiftly enough.

"Once, in person," Tseng replied, his gaze slipping to his desk. "I was in training then; and was never told why she was so special. All I knew was that I was supposed to watch her; either up close or from afar."

"Eh... and you were saying this was fourteen years ago?"

"Yes?"

"Freaking Hell Tseng; you were just a damn kid! And yet you were working for Shinra even then too?" Zack sputtered incredulously.

Tseng dismissively shrugged it off, "Be that as it may, its irrelevant information."

Zack's gaze however indicated his aversion towards letting this subject slide so easily, but thankfully kept his mouth shut. He jerked his head to encourage Tseng to continue, but his clenched jaw set his facial profile in rigid relief. For all Tseng knew, this tiny detail may have given Zack yet another reason to despise Shinra.

"At any rate, Ifalna knew she wanted she and her daughter's bloodline kept a secret," Tseng elaborated. "So she ran away from Shinra; and right around the time of Gast's death. Unfortunately for her, Shinra managed to imprison she and the infantile Aerith for the next seven years; and that's where they stayed until she escaped again. The Turks, some Security Sect, among others went to bring her back in, no matter what the cost- and perversely, that cost just so happened to be Ifalna's own life-"

"Wait wait, whoa whoa _whoa_. She _died_? Just like that?"

"She was grievously injured in her flight to Midgar; and its a mistake that was never meant to happen."

"So you say, and so friggin' casually too. But seriously, what happened to her? As in _details _man."

The Turk shook his head, as if the answer was truly the greatest crime ever committed. Zack narrowed his eyes at him but remained pensive as Tseng specified with, "A rookie in the mission shot hit her in a vital spot, I think. It was meant to slow her; not kill."

"A rookie? In such a vital, delicate mission?"

The bitter, thin smile he received from the Turk shocked him, "I know. Real intelligent move, all things considered. He was trying to get acclimated to on-the-job experience."

Zack shook his head, "That's freaking stupid. So, was it a Turk or the army-?"

"That's something that eludes even me," Tseng replied, frowning a little more deeply. "We never got the details; all we know is that Ifalna eventually died from it. The next time we saw Aerith again, she was already living with Elmyra; her adoptive mother. From then on, its all we could do to employ only gentler methods of 'protecting' her. Anything else could've compromised her life."

Zack snorted, not at all disguising his contempt, "Well, its no wonder you want her out of Shinra sights. What I don't understand though is why you choose to do this _now _and not back then."

Tseng untented his hands, reclining back in his chair and propping one under his head. "There wasn't any way _to _do this before. As of recently, with the way things have been going down here throughout the past half a year, avenues only started to open up then. Like you for instance," he indicated the man before him. "Your escape from Nibelheim actually caused quite a stir: With you, a first class SOLDIER whose been wrongfully imprisoned and used after a cover-up, eliminating you became first priority: For the first time in four years, All eyes that had been on Aerith were locked onto _you_. You're no Sephiroth, but your strength and whatever dirt you could've had would've done more than just tarnish the Shinra image. Some people actually thought it would've been a repeat of the G crisis."

"Huh," Zack nodded, his gaze carefully blank.

"Now don't let this go to your head, but if more people knew about your survival, you can bet there would've been even more SOLDIER desertions. Many people earnestly _liked _you; you had an image, on both the inside and outside of Shinra," Tseng continued. "If so many in SOLDIER knew that the late president, Scarlet and Heidegger were intending to kill you, they probably would've left Shinra right then and there. _That _was why no SOLDIER were ever sent after you and Cloud. Again, it could've been a repeat of the Genesis incident when he took so many seconds and thirds with him."

Zack bobbed his head, as if the information was finally piecing some things together for him. He continued to impassively look on; absorbing all of this information with no inclination to interrupt for once.

"That said, saving you couldn't have been done when Scarlet and Heidegger had their sights on you so early on," Tseng went on. "-Its only until Heidegger dispatched the Shinra Army to 'privately' deal with you that Scarlet finally turned her up nose; as she had problems of her own cropping up at the same time. Anyway, when he sent us to 'confirm' your death, that's when the chance to recover you finally opened up: Literally, Heidegger handed it to us without even knowing it."

Tseng went on to say, "I've been told by my superior before his retirement this little piece of advice; and its something you already understand from your own mentor: Sure, it was in different words, but it spurred us both in a way." He stopped and took a breath, and then he said, "'Always question your mission. Don't just blindly follow orders your whole life.'" He paused, took a breath, and then said, "Zack, did you, or did you not always question the morality of our objectives?"

"Uh, yeah? Of course I did," his words sounded sarcastic, but they weren't meant to be.

"Well then, why do you think you're here?"

Zack tilted back in his chair and gazed at the floor, and he replied lowly, "'Cause you saved me?"

Tseng sighed, "Yes, but it wasn't on a whim, Zack. And it certainly wasn't just for Aerith either." He propped a hand up under his chin and proceeded with, "You're here because I consider you my comrade; and yet I wouldn't have come to even _that _realization if I hadn't questioned my job. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have sent help your way at all. I never did out-right do anything to compromise Shinra before, but now-" He blinked. And then he said, "Every time I'm sent out to perform any kind of mission nowadays, I can't help thinking about how foolish the company's reasons for it is. I mean, you know what happened to Sector Seven-"

Zack nodded, his shadowed expression darkening several notches.

"You want to know how many people were even in AVALANCHE, Zack?"

He waited for his reply; which came in the form of an overtly cautious dip in the skull. At this, the Turk told him with a grave shake of his own head, "It was five people _total_, Zack. That small, rag-tag remnants of a much more formally imposing, now dying terrorist organization, now reduced to a battered, hollowed-out husk of itself, was all that's left of AVALANCHE."

"What. The actual. _Fuck_-" Zack suddenly hissed, his teeth bared in a primal grimace. "You mean, that fat, money-grubbing, maggot-ridden bastard that's supposed to be our president dropped an _entire _district of people onto another district of the city, just to kill _five _people? _Like fucking REALLY_?" When Tseng didn't reply immediately, Zack threw a hand back and smacked himself in the forehead. "Fucking god. The Hell's this world coming too? How come he couldn't have just sent SOLDIER or something after them? Not that I'm agreeing with him-"

"That's the thing, Zack: He _did _try, and it failed," the Turk replied grimly. "If anything, the late president's employed various other methods to stop them, but it never deterred their little raids. The body-count was already staggering-"

"Like dropping Sector Seven on 'em would make it any better?" Zack snarled; his expression border-line feral.

Tseng sighed, "I don't agree with it either. This extremist mentality has only made things harder for _everyone_; and it only gives AVALANCHE yet more incentive to retaliate." He rested his arms back onto his desk, keeping his flinty stare locked onto Zack's frostier gaze. "Call it callous, but I don't think discussing the ethics of it will get us anywhere; as we've digressed from the main topic."

Tseng genuinely wished he knew why he'd followed through on that heinous order, although a colder, more insidious part of him already knew: Its essentially an order to commit mass murder, and he knew the Turks would never shake off that entire weight. So he decided to, as cruel as it was, shelve that thought into the darkest recesses of his mind. There wasn't anything else a somewhat-sane man could do anyways.

"Now, to finish your question," he bull-dozed into the conclusion on purpose, bringing Zack's attention back to himself. "These stories taught us that being _this _direct was what barbarically resulted in a tragic, avoidable accidental loss in not only one person's life, but many, many more. When we dealt with Aerith, we've always been nothing but observant and obvious, on _purpose_. If Aerith felt the way her mother did when and she ran, we're afraid apprehending her will result in her misery and death."

At this, Zack cringed, his shudder racking his entire form.

"And as for Sephiroth, I doubt he's a real Ancient, but I also don't know anything of the project he was born from," Tseng continued. "If he _were _one, I wouldn't think Rufus would need Aerith. Its better to drag her out of this confusing mess before it escalates."

"And, if he _wasn't _a real Cetra?"

The Turk pursed his lips briefly, and then, "I reiterate my previous point. You and I both know Rufus would go after Aerith next, without a doubt. But I'm afraid Rufus' impatience would hurt the girl should he order us to go after her more actively. I could be wrong, but I don't wish to risk Aerith's well-being just to see if I am. Rufus's young, and although seems more adaptable than his father, he's limited by his own inexperience and restlessness."

"Man. You're pretty much stuck wither way."

Tseng let his eyes fall to desk, sightlessly scanning the details of the mouse pad in front of him.

"Ah, so that's why you want me here?" Zack entreated. "To save her?"

"Not quite," Tseng dead-panned.

"Come again?"

The man rose from his chair and sauntered over to his windows, his back to the ex-SOLDIER. "I had something else in mind for you, at the moment," he began. "I know this is a brash shift in topic, but bear with me here: As you now know from explanation, our lack in intelligence is our greatest enemy right now. We know basically _nothing_ of Sephiroth and his background, despite he being raised inside Shinra underneath Hojo's supervision. Learning about whether or not the man truly is an Ancient or... something else, will prove more beneficial than pursuing the goals Shinra's set in stone."

"What about Aerith then?!" Zack jumped to his feet then; but apparently too fast. He suddenly wobbled and slapped his hands onto the desk, his breathe rattled and short for a flickering second. He took the moment to steady his air-flow and closed his eyes, counting to ten and slowly dragging in precious oxygen.

Tseng waited, and then a moment later, he said before Zack could even so much as finish gathering his thoughts, "I'm already aware of Aerith's delicate position, Zack. That's why I have my fellows on her trail as we speak." He pulled out his cell phone and added, "I can contact Rude and Elena right now should I need an update. And if anything truly dire happened, they'd do the vice versa."

"I thought you said... you don't like... Aerith's new _company_?"

"I don't," he admitted. "And I plan on getting her away from them at some point."

"Who're they really? You never told me."

The man returned to his desk and tried to encourage Zack to sit, somewhat wary of the man's withered condition. "Remember when I mentioned AVALANCHE and the bombings?"

"Oh no. Please don't tell me-"

"I thought you wanted me to tell you?"

"GAH! GOD DAMMIT!" Zack's hands flew to his scalp- his frustration finally coming to a boiling point. "You know damn well what I meant, Tseng! What the fuck?"

The aforementioned Turk blew out an exasperated air, "You think you can hazard a guess then?"

"Ugh. _Yes_," Zack's hands finally dropped to his sides and he collapsed into his leather chair, his bright, cerulean eyes fiercely at odds with his tired body. "She's with frickin' AVALANCHE then, ain't she?"

"You guessed right."

"Oh my god that's the most disasterific and stupidest thing Aerith'll ever do. Like, _whyyyyy_? We both know she's too sweet for that kind of Gun-ho bull-hooey! Why hang with those guys? It makes absolutely _no sense_! She's essentially _begging _Shinra to come get her!"

Another head shake and a shrug. "Truer words have never been spoken," he honestly agreed. "But if I had to guess, it may be because of a certain... _individual _in the group that's caught her interest."

_And mine._

"Certain... 'individual'?" Zack's uneasy feeling was glaringly obvious now.

"Yes, and I do believe this young man may be of interest to you as well-"

But alas, what Zack only heard was that a _young man _had caught _Aerith's captivated interest _if she was in AVALANCHE of all things. Tseng faintly understood the implifications of such a revelation; and he understood that Zack had ardently been in love with the flower girl for years. He went through all that shit around the world just to make it to her, so to hear this must've been more than a little painful to swallow.

So he tried to move past this by interrupting the other's thoughts before he drove himself into a deep rut. "-Whatever the case, we need to know more about AVALANCHE and its members, Aerith's safety in that group, _and _Sephiroth's background in general so we can-"

"I don't give a flying _whoopty-do-da _about Sephiroth's birth, blood-line, emotional constipation, and where it came from!" Zack's fists balled and he slammed into the desk, making it groan. "I wanna track down those scum-sucking chocobo cocks and string them up by their almond-sized _blitzballs _for putting Aerith in so much danger! And why in all the nine layers of _holy Hell _would Aerith get the grand idea that joining a buncha shifty 'freedom fighters' was such a great idea? I mean _COME ON_-!"

"Dammit Zack! FOCUS!" Tseng interrupted. "I know its distressing to hear but-"

"BUT WHAT DUDE! WHAT?!"

"I'm concerned about your well-being, Zack. Your _health _is actually a huge issue here!"

Well, he had to tell him sometime before the guy finished flying off the handle. _Might as well be now_.

"If you're so worried about me havin' an attack then don't just dangle that shit out there! 'Sides, I don't see how its a-"

"Listen," Tseng shot his hand out and dragged Zack forward, forcing him to meet his obsidian scowl. "You asked me to be straight with you, so I'm gonna be as blunt as possible: I'm concerned about you _and _Cloud here; especially the latter. We need Hojo's research to see if you two are somehow a danger to Aerith at all!"

"Uh... I'm sorry but, what? Whaddya mean 'me an' Cloud' are a-?"

Tseng abruptly released him and huffed, a migraine coming on. His fingers went to pinch the flesh underneath his tilak, pinching the spot so hard its reddened color put Genesis' Curtana to shame. _Deep breaths_, he told himself_. _

God he was tired.

"I'm saying," he began lowly. "-That your exposure to Sephiroth's cells could've had adverse effects," he replied, his modulated tone firmly in place. "But we don't know for sure yet."

"Wouldn't I have reacted to it by now?" Zack didn't sound concerned, but his face suggested otherwise.

"Maybe, maybe not." Tseng shrugged again. "Maybe it won't affect you at all- However, my main concern now lies with the other subject and his newfound strength."

Zack's arms folded together, his eyes a lit with building distress. "Uh... could ya, kinda elaborate? And what does Cloud have to do with Aerith-?"

"He's in AVALANCHE as well," Tseng watched Zack's gaze shift through fifty various shades of worry. "-And he's actually traveling with Aerith and the rest of their little committee of criminals to find Sephiroth. He's also part of the original five AVALANCHE members the president attempted to kill off too."

"Holy fucking," He trailed off. "Cloud's in it too? And he's with Aerith? _And _they're after Sephiroth-? That's just-"

"I know, but Cloud's the more interesting aspect between the two right now." He steepled his hands again and kept his gaze flat. "He's suddenly capable of physical feats only SOLDIER can perform; even though he was merely infantry not so long ago. I think I may even be boldest to say, he's almost level with you in terms of combat-skill."

Zack's eyes grew confused and suspicious, the man blinking once in shock.

"-This said, I have no idea what Hojo could've done to you two to make someone as unassuming as Cloud into some super-SOLDIER, but I have reason to suspect his incarceration in Nibelheim has something to do with it- if not entirely _everything_."

Zack's huge arms remained folded, but his fingers dug into his biceps. "Has he... I dunno, reacted to it in some way? Like, _badly_?"

"I haven't seen it myself personally. In between shift change, I have our seventh man eye-balling the group just to be sure. So when Rude and Elena are replaced with someone else, he'll be on them like their own personal shadow." He paused. "-Although, its probably a tad more prudent to insert an extra set of ears instead of eyes."

"Is that what you plan on doing?"

"Not us personally, no. We have too few people able to do this right now. Other than that, I think its fair to say Aerith's met the majority of the Turks after all these years; and she'd know if we threw an operative into AVALANCHE's fold. But-" Tseng remembered Reeve's suggestion not so long ago; he planned on having Cait Sith join the lot once they've crossed to the other continent. The man had been rather forth-coming about the idea, and convincing. "Its a working plan in progress," he truthfully informed him.

"A spy? Really Tseng? I mean who'll even do the job right, if not a Turk? And wouldn't these guys know if Shinra tried something like that?"

"That's not in our jurisdiction for right now," Tseng dismissed.

"Funny way of saying 'mind yer own biz'. Jeez."

Tseng ignored the retort, "For right now, the both of us need to narrow down our options. You're too weak for field work right now, and I don't want you letting Cloud and Aerith know of your existence yet."

"-Ya mean never? Right?"

"I never said that, nor do I mean for you to not speak with them again," he calmly assured him. "I told you once already Zack, you'll be free to do as you wish if and when this works out: We just need to deal with Aerith, Cloud, and Sephiroth first- and see if any of Hojo's work may compound any steps we take."

Zack's mouth shifted into a thin line, his mind juggling the information so far. After a short moment in this manner, he groaned and threw back his head while rubbing at his eyes. "_Ugh_. I just don't know man," he began while tugging at the skin on his face. He moved his arm to the back of his head, scratching at it. "-If you're going around behind your boss's back to save a girl he'd _obviously _want eventually, watching a bunch of errant criminals with a rap sheet a mile high wander the world freely, saving me knowing I'll be a great pain in the ass if I cared for it, _and _sneaking around while dealing with an undead, clinically insane, homicidal mass murderer all at _once_-? How the fuck are you going to go about doing this? Its already too much!"

The big man frowned then, "-And I could've swore you were once all-in for Shinra's success, even if it's for something as stupid as an old-as-balls fairy tale promising life-time wealth; however unrealistic that is. You're a good Turk, Tseng, and I always frickin' hated that. But now you sound like you're giving up on Shinra!"

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" Tseng mutually agreed. "And when you're putting it like that, I suppose this company does sound like its being flushed down an uncleaned, public communal."

"Ya think?" Zack threw a leg back up on the desk, but only one this time. He kept his limbs folded across his chest. "Won't this hurt the Turks? I mean, if you guys get found out-"

"Then we'll _all _be fired; and that term may end up being literal."

Zack blinked again, his mouth slipping open in abhorrent shock before slamming shut with an audible click. "Oh man. No pressure or anything," he muttered.

The Director didn't reply immediately; he merely weighed the words between them and stared off to the side. "Executed for high treason" was indeed what awaited the lot, and it's something Zack himself was familiar with.

As for the ex-SOLDIER, he heaved a sigh that sounded more strained than any other before it. Both men remained silent, turning over the many scenarios suddenly unfolding before them. "When ya saved me, ya damned yourself," was his next, half-whispered words.

Tseng jolted and arrested his stiff gaze on Zack, his hands clasping the other. _Is that how you see it? _was his expression.

"Ah dammit. I said the quiet part loud, didn't I?"

Tseng raised a raven-plume brow and said nothing, watching as Zack tore over his little slip.

"Well, shit man," he said with a shake of the head, his gaze despondent. Zack shifted forward and propped his right leg over his left, resting an arm on it. His eyes moved towards the floor and stayed there, his thoughts swirling around in plain view in neon-tinted crystal eyes. "You technically put the Turks in jeopardy doing this," he elaborated. "And I never figured you the type to do somethin' like this. We both know you sent out the specific individuals you did for a reason, and they knew they were gonna get caught up in this... whatever you're plannin'. They went along with it anyway, and I could only guess without complaint. But for what reason though? Why d'ya do it? Why risk your whole team, _for me_? It can't just be 'cause we're friends, right?"

"Can it not be that simple, Zack?" Tseng inquired.

His expression was one of abject skepticism, "'Course not. Nothing's _ever _that simple."

"Hm. I could've swore I explained myself," the Turk stated.

"You did, but, I dunno," Zack's head shook again. "Ya never been so open about this kinda thing before. You never came off as that kind of person. Heck, I figured you tolerated me at best. Not actually help just because I'm genuinely your friend..."

He stopped, his face contrite; whilst Tseng himself measured the statement he's pondered not two weeks before. Whatever the case, this simple truth didn't seem to carry the equivalent weight of all his comrades well-being with it. What _was _the worth of one life versus the many? Versus the _whole _Administrative Research Division?

Tseng couldn't really say. What did he know? He helped kill hundreds, if not more not a week before; just to keep his word to the company that the Turks will continue to behave. _See, we're still useful_, he'd reasoned. He already told himself he didn't regret saving Zack, and truly, _he didn't_. So he said nothing, taking the moment to do some introspective burrowing.

Tseng, a man born and raised inside Shinra, truly a smooth operator through and through. Decisive, dead-pan, no-nonsense, efficient, always logical. He never let his temperamental tendencies get to him, and the rare times it did it's a 'one and done' deal. Every single one his guys came to him, knew how to decipher his one-word orders, knew he's the boss man with the plan.

And yet, even Zack's little query seemed to turn over the director's methods and lay them out as they are: A true contradiction; his loyalty between Shinra and to his comrades; split down the middle with a blade smelted from the steel Zack had given him. Said metaphorical knife was forged and utilized by Tseng himself and no one else; Zack merely gave the man the means and the drive to use it. And he deliberately sliced a fine line between his connection to his work life and _actual _living; when not so long ago, both were a perfectly melded, cohesive whole.

Tseng cared for his fellows; they weren't his underlings. They were his equals, his allies, his 'friends'; true and tried, old and new faces alike. Heidegger may feel otherwise, but he could also stick his loud-mouthed opinions where the sun doesn't quite shine. Tseng cared about the members of the Turk division, and keeping them afloat gave him purpose. Maybe that was why he destroyed so many lives- to keep the Turks intact. And maybe, not so much out of a selfish obligation to Rufus, as he once feared.

Years ago, when Hojo had dragged away the fatigued Zack and severely wounded Cloud, Tseng could only _watch_, wordlessly. He could only lie so much to Aerith; telling her he was safely sending the man his mail. His emotions never frothed and boiled so close to the surface; always a tame simmer. But seeing the vulnerable man he called his friend reduced to someone else's mutant plaything, to mutely tolerate the degradation of his human right to disagree, to withstand the risks of death to the closest equivalent of family he'd ever known-

And then Tseng truly absorbed that yes, he was _tired _of it. He wanted it to all stop. And suddenly, he felt _old_, even when he was hardly pushing thirty.

Saving Zack carried a risk that threatened to change the entire face of the Administrative Research Division forever; and then some. It meant digging up its dirt and potentially exposing it to their employers; and to risk burying them as consequence for their rebellion and secrecy. But Tseng couldn't give two fucks for it; he knew even if the lot of them were caught out they'd all go down together. Which was grimly alright with him; because he knew the rest of the Turks would do the same for he and their brethren.

_Risk begets reward; you'd only need to break the mold._

When he looked back up his SOLDIER comrade, he felt his smile slip through, resolved with his decision.

"You know Zack," he started. "It _is _that simple, but its ultimately up to you to believe me. If you have any reason to doubt otherwise, then you could simply confide in the fact that I want Aerith just as safe as you do. Is that not reason enough?"

The big man's shallow breath caught for an instance, but then he smiled full-on. "Is it?" he entreated.

The two shared equal expressions of resolved calm; serene and stoic as it was. But it was within that same moment Zack seemed to find something to latch onto; his earlier expression of wariness finally seeping away. A switch flipped within him, and his former jovial light returned to his steady gaze. He nodded to a stray thought, and then relaxed his shoulders some.

"...Alright then. Whether or not I _do_ believe it-" Tseng chuckled. "How about you just point out where I gotta go already? The suspense is killin' me here!"

"It already damn near did," the director off-handedly threw out.

"You know, you should stay away from the jokes," Zack toothily grinned. "You could afford to work on your delivery."

Tseng waved it off, "Well, I don't know about that, but I _do _know that I'm probably the biggest fool in the Turks right now." His slight smile remained as he added with a shrug, "No matter. What I need you to do, Zack, _without _comment or complaint, is to shut up and get ready to gear up."

"Wait, already?" He shot incredulously. "You're not gonna tell me to "take it easy" and rest?"

"No. You'll be able to have plenty of time in-between trips to rest. You won't be engaging in any combat of course," He held up a hand just as the other went to interrupt again. "But, you'll be seeing plenty of action; in small doses."

A grin, "Now you got me all curious. What am I to do then? Where am I going? I don't really have anything to take with me-"

Again with the hand. "I already have that covered. I only need you to be quiet and complacent, and long enough for me to set you up properly." He rose from his desk and moved around it, flicking his head over his shoulder. "Come," he motioned.

Zack immediately jumped to his side and moved towards the elevator, his previous woe all but a passing after-thought. His familiar, vivacious energy radiated in waves as he followed, his fists balling. The guy was practically vibrating in place out of sheer excitement.

_Well then, _Tseng pondered as he weighed the individual astride himself. _I don't think he has anymore doubt within him. This conversation took longer than I'd like, but he finally gets it. _He slipped his I.D into the keypad in the elevator next, this time holding it there for an entirely different reason than Zack would know. The doors slid shut, and the mechanical cubical descended quietly.

_With this one small step_, he mentally noted, unbeknownst to his baffled companion. When the elevator didn't stop at the 'lobby' level, Zack's mouth flapped open but shut promptly. _We take our first true step forward- And with that same step, we, the Turks, bid our last goodbye to the world we've been raised to serve: To the world Shinra has carved and molded, to the weapons we became, to what we stood for- _

The elevator went well below ground level, delving deeper than the ex-SOLDIER ever expected. He placed his hands on his hips and turned in a slightly anxious circle. He passed Tseng a questioning glance once, but then focused his attention back on the doors.

_I only pray, _the director heaved a great breath. _My fellows will follow, even if they don't understand. Shinra is all we know. They will not understand my reasoning fully, if not partially. Still, it may be selfish to ask, but I hope they won't have any regrets in their decision to continue following me; as I have none have when it comes to Zack's life._

When the elevator dinged, Zack whistled at what's ahead of him. Tseng merely lifted his head as high as he could, taking the lead. _Its a given_, he reflected. _-A given if they follow me at all. But its a risk I've already taken by gambling on one man's continued survival. And I have no reason to look back upon it. Not one. And if worse comes to worse- _He walked, ignoring the odd glances he felt being drilled into his back. _I'll sever my ties to Shinra as a hole, and I shall fully embrace that fact._

_...No matter to what end, I will see this through. With Zack beside me, and with Shinra far, **far** behind._


	3. Septimus Sect

**Please Note: there is mention of a panic attack later on in the chapter. Its a trigger warning for you guys' benefit, but hopefully its not so intense. There will be things like it later on in the story, so please take care to remember that.**

**Enjoy! And remember to leave some constructive reviews.**

* * *

~777~

The elevator kept going on for a nigh-on a minute; or at least that's what it felt like to Zack. Maybe even longer for all he knew. That little kernel of _something _in his innards couldn't help but coil at the secrecy, but it progressively unwound in the minutes that lapsed. He felt stifled at first, but breathed a little better when he quietly practiced his exercises.

He shook his head and regarded his somewhat stoic friend beside him, Tseng ignoring him coolly while being lost amidst his own thoughts. The man had been rather taciturn while somehow being oddly open _and_ selective; and managed to be incredibly long winded during his explanations as well. Everything Zack pretty much asked had been fielded and logged, and it left a great welling of unexplained sensations clashing within the former SOLDIER.

His words about Cloud bothered him most; even though Aerith's current shift in company had left him just as distressed initially. When Tseng told him that both were in AVALANCHE and the group seemed heart-felt on protecting her, it filled him with uneasy relief of a kind. Nonetheless, he couldn't help his reservations about the group.

AVALANCHE had never been easy to deal with in the past; Zack's had more than his fair share of battles with them. And the fact that the group still carried a blatant disregard of extraordinary loss of human life still disturbed and infuriated him. Throwing Aerith and Cloud into the mix certainly wasn't something Zack felt he wanted to know, but he did; cutesy of Tseng. He mentally thanked the Turk for being so honest about it too admittedly; he could've simply sent Zack off on his merry way without informing him of these developments _at all_.

As for the reason the Turk told him though, he couldn't tell if it was out of obligation of some manner, or merely because he genuinely wanted a compatriot to understand. It might've been the latter the more he thought about it; but whose to say it could've been for _both _reasons that Tseng may have possibly distressed him for?

Zack sighed, dismissing the rampant thoughts. He'd gotten into a mental tangent there.

As for AVALANCHE itself; willingly blowing up multiple reactors and causing general problems with the public wasn't a way to deal with Shinra. All it did was cause more problems than it solved: Case in point; Sector Seven's disaster. Violence begets more violence; and this Zack understood more than ever. Angeal even taught him as much early on; and its no wonder the man stressed that methods that _could _theoretically be resolved without violence should be approached as such.

So how would one deal with Shinra anyhow? Zack certainly didn't know the answer; but he knew enough to try to take Tseng's words and steel himself with them. The man had certainly done enough to earn Zack's trust for the time being.

The logic was sound too: Staying hidden seemed far more intelligent than broadcasting your innate furies and destroying public property while potentially dragging in numerous innocents.

But then again, maybe AVALANCHE decided that protecting Aerith was a far less violent way to spite Shinra, seeing how they _are _putting in the extra strides to safe-guard her. It a way, it was a better method to thwart the company while being more discreet.

_But, wouldn't that mean that they know what she is and how important she is to the company? _Zack wondered. _Why would they merely protect her if she were some bystander? That kinda crap never stopped them before._

He didn't know how to feel about it personally, but he weighed the possibility and felt his jaw clench: Now, if they _did _somehow theoretically know about her secret (which seemed likely seeing as they're protecting her from Shinra), it meant Aerith may have voluntarily surrendered this information of her own accord. She _willingly _told this... rogue organization known for their destructive measures and vagrant ruthlessness of her lineage for some unforeseeable reason. If there was one, it evaded Zack completely. Aerith never told him about being an Ancient herself; Tseng and Cissnei had to do those honors. So why would she feel inclined to tell these guys when she didn't feel safe telling _Zack frickin' Fair himself_? Her god-damn BOYFRIEND for crying out loud!

_Maybe circumstance dictated this_, was his next thought. _Maybe they learned about it by accident or design and she had to come clean about it? _

_...But then again... How would it have come to that? Wouldn't that mean Aerith was put in danger at some point-? How could that lead into them learning about her? _

He passed Tseng another glance, but couldn't help but shift his weight to one leg. His jaw was clenching again, dammit; and that little niggling thing in his belly was tensing like a snake being disturbed.

_Come to think of it. I don't think Tseng's ever explained __**how**__ AVALANCHE actually found out about Aerith in the first place. AVALANCHE escaped the Shinra building 'cuz of Sephiroth, but when did they find the time to meet her? How'd it happen? Tseng said Cloud caught her interest, but how did they meet? Aerith joined for Cloud's benefit, right?_

_No. That isn't... No._

Zack nibbled on his lower lip and felt his brow sink. He never did think this much, and _man _wasn't it giving him a migraine. His arms kept their folded position.

_Explanations be damned. Like, what the fuck. How the Hell did this happen anyway? Aerith wouldn't willingly join a merry band of outlaws just for some guy she just met. Cloud would've only had days to know her at most. Days! So, circumstance probably threw her into it, but then that means __**some **__kind of danger found her... Maybe-_

He shuddered.

_Fucking Hell. I'm getting all kinds of wound-up from this. And its not getting me anywhere. I guess I'll know when I actually get started._

Whatever the case, his mind reeled as he weighed the various other topics broached; pondering Cloud's health once again after hearing Tseng voice his imminent concern over plausible side-effects.

Its bad enough Cloud reacted to the mako injections _badly_; and how he remained comatose for _months _during their little world tour- go figure. But, Zack had never really stopped to consider just how bad the presence of foreign cells like Sephiroth's would do the little guy. Cloud wasn't used to the same procedures Zack was; and that's ultimately what contributed to Zack's subsequent awakening and escape and Cloud's inability to do more than baby babble and drool.

Still, with how dangerous these effects already were, what more is there to manifest? Did Tseng withhold anything else the SOLDIER felt he'd need to know? Or did he not say anything simply because he hadn't the evidence to back the statement? Did he simply not know enough? Did Cloud's sudden jump in strength betray any other ill-effects or were they evidence of something even more dangerous?

Zack inwardly resolved to find Cloud and physically see for himself just how bad off the guy was; whether Tseng liked it or not. He didn't have to tell him he's alive per se; merely observe from afar.

He nodded to this conclusion and then wondered: _Genesis and his men certainly wanted Cloud bad enough, and so did pretty much everyone else we came across. _The ex-SOLDIER frowned, _Maybe Tseng's recommendation of hunting down any information pertaining to Sephiroth and Hojo's research is more important in some ways. Maybe it'll tell us why Cloud's condition is what it is-?_

_Whatever the heck it is._

Suddenly, the elevator stopped, the letters on the glowing screen above the doors reading out _**BG 1-V**_. Zack forcibly placed the information in the back of his mind and unfolded his arms, licking his dry lips. He had no way of deciphering what those letters meant and turned to ask Tseng; but the doors opened and the slightly smaller man was already leading the ex-SOLDIER out. Zack smacked his lips again and looked out, letting out a small whistle as he took in what's in front of him:

It looked like a scene from one of those higher-budget films about aliens or something he saw with Kunsel once: A stark, featureless, long white hallway greeted the two, the over-head lights blinking on and casting a strange, auralescent light just as Tseng took the first steps forward. At the end of the thing, a pair of electro-magnetically powered double doors greeted them; complete with the Shinra logo printed on it. Zack lagged behind the other, turning his head all around despite there not being much to look at.

"Whoa..." He mumbled under his breath.

It took them a moment, but they reached the end of the hall and waited. Tseng stood in front of the doors and paused, his face a blank mask. There was apparently some facial I.D scanner or _something _that the ex-SOLDIER couldn't see; because then the obscenely huge and heavy doors sighed open once Tseng relaxed his rigid features.

"This is where we store our more sensitive equipment and gear," He said with what Zack figured was boredom. As if secret geared-up bunkers weren't cool or anything; given this is what it even _is_.

"The majority is still experimental, defunct, or barely functional," The Turk leader elaborated. "-Aside from that, only the directors of the Department of Administrative Research, some handful of professional technicians from the materia development department, Scarlet, Heidegger, and a scant few of the more experienced Turks know about it: and only then those few are being fielded as possible, new directors."

"So... how many people exactly?" Zack asked.

Tseng paused and considered. And then, "Believe it or not, nine or less people at any one time. With you here now though currently, only eight."

"Holy shit man. Doesn't the president even know about this?" Zack inquired as he stepped inside this ginormous place, shaking his head at the sheer immensity of it.

"The last one did. Rufus however hasn't been debriefed yet, and so far is ignorant of this," He replied.

Huge was definitely an understatement: it was _exactly _as immense as Shinra's main lobby at the entrance. On all four sides of the room was rows upon rows of devices and gear of every sort; of varying functionality to boot. Said rows were protected by reinforced glass plates some few inches thick; with the wall directly in front of them containing glass-covered tables and pillars with a myriad of objects displayed on them like museum artifacts. The objects were broken; likely failed in experimental runs. Many were guns, blades, or a combination of the two Zack couldn't hope to recognize.

Some of the tables had materia on them; many of the usual colors he knew, but their labels were of warped spells never before so contorted. In fact, one green materia was so _bright _it radiated emerald energy in pulsing waves. According to its gold name-plate, it was a roided-out, but no doubt failed, 'Bio' spell with its many fusions with foreign objects resulting in as much. The effect was so prominent it made the materia toxic to the touch ironically.

There was other green materia not unlike it; like a lightning spell that made the materia dangerous to approach due to its constant, violent discharge of electricity. Another was unable to hold its shape for too long; its churning surface not one of crystal, but of an amorphous substance that shifted like jell-o. Zack hadn't the foggiest of what that was until he saw its name: Transform materia, gone bad basically. He didn't know materia could even do that until he saw it.

And yet, there was even more with increasingly unfamiliar and novel spells; their behaviors erratic and grotesque. But among the ocean of searing greens and faintly dull blues, diluted purples, and blinding gold, only one crimson materia was to be seen. A summon as Zack surmised, although oddly enough it had no label like everything else did. He couldn't help but consider the lonely object and wondered if the thing was a dud or simply too dangerous to call upon.

_Some summons are just like that, although I've never had any problems with calling them, _he noted. He'd had issues with dealing with someone else's beasts of burden, true; but not his own. He eventually tamed the summons in a way; and even violent and proud creatures like the Bahamut breed (The most powerful as far as he knew) were manageable once beaten in battle.

Summons were strange creatures; an unusual but natural part of their world. Guardians of sorts, but more often than not destroyers. The only true way to earn their respect it seemed was to fight and defeat the thing, at times. Others were more agreeable and didn't require the skill needed to borrow their might. Its fair to say though that Zack has professionally dealt with both kinds, and even more like these in his years in SOLDIER. He was an experienced handler of summons by now. What decent first class SOLDIER wouldn't be?

Details aside, 'working' materia was on the right side of the vault; while guns, blades, and various devices like Reno's rod or Cissnei's shuriken sat on the left. Zack couldn't help but lumber inside and start inspecting every single thing possible. He felt he had too few eyeballs and too much overload in his brain.

"I'm sure all this is a fanboy's wet dream," Tseng mused, somewhat enjoying Zack's glaringly obvious stupor. "But you could at least have some decency and pick your slobbering jaw up off the floor. I don't have the time to wax it."

"_Wow-_" He turned all around- a whole three-sixty and then some. "Great Gaia this place is packed. Just what kinda of illegal shit is stored here anyway?"

The Turk mosied over to the center table, his back to him. Once Zack finally managed to properly get his thoughts together, he planted his hands on his hips and took the time to migrate around as well. He hadn't noticed that the giant room actually had a modest glass counter in the dead-center of it much like a jewel case would. He over-looked it amidst his wandering awe. To say it looked somewhat under-whelming compared to the overall vastness of this place would put it mildly.

"We're sometimes commissioned to hide some these things after their creation; to keep them out of public eye," Tseng continued. "Scarlet had a lot of these items made for various reasons; most to benefit her, the president's and/or Heidegger's ends." He waved his arm a tad, a theatrical gesture turned lazy. "Or maybe just because she's bored. You never know with her."

"Nice to know Tax-payer gil went into fueling her secret fetish," Zack snorted with mixed bemusement. "This stuff looks like something outta gaudy alien and sci-fi flicks."

"Hmmf, I suppose it does," Tseng nodded, his shrug casual.

"She obviously didn't have a normal childhood or she's just a working genius slash nut-case," Zack also half-joked. He was partially serious however; Scarlet only ever left the man feeling rattled. "I mean, what the Hell is she smoking? I want some of that."

"Never figured you the type," Tseng sardonically retorted.

Zack snorted again, his grin evident in his voice. "Just a figure of speech. But still, between the Junon Cannon, the whole division she's got, and _this _place? She sure is busy."

Tseng felt his lips slip again; only Zack could get the man to smile more often than not. "Yes well," he chuckled. "Sephiroth used a lot of this himself in his earlier days; he was of a curious or like mind when it came to weapons. In fact, _some _of these proto-type weapons you'll probably be shocked to know was originally meant for SOLDIER use after successful testing, but was never fully authenticated."

Zack then inquired with a suspicious note, "I can kinda see why. What about the stuff that _does _work though? It looks uber-awesome."

Tseng sighed somewhat, "Aside from being dangerous, producing this stuff was costly. Pretty much everything in here, except for what's in this table, had a tendency to backlash as well."

"Uh... 'Backlash'?"

"Allow me to temporarily draw your attention to this," casually suggested the Turk.

Zack wondered over to what the director was gesticulating; noting the table with the blood-red crystal inside. The summon materia no less, complete with an ambiguous but serene image of illusionary calm.

As he approached however, the man couldn't help but sense an intangible _weight _clasp his shoulders; sticking up the hairs on the back of his neck. He thought he detected the trace of some ghastly fangs nipping at his heels; his flesh tingling in primordial tension. A vibrating resonance crackled in the air and hummed along his bones; minute and in traces but _there_. He circled the table carefully, feeling more than just a little uneasy at its proximity.

_I feel like... prey._

"Uh... What's up with this thing? I mean, I've never felt a summon give off an air like this."

"...To be honest, I'm not actually sure what it is," Tseng replied, walking over himself. He folded his more slight limbs and added with a distinct apprehension, "All I know is that the last man who tried to use this didn't survive the encounter with the creature it beckoned... Creatures? It might've been plural." The Turk shook his head. "The funny thing was, he'd been an able and apt SOLDIER; recently promoted to first class. And yet, all we had left of him was supposedly his torn-up limbs and some pulp that was thought to be his torso."

_WHAT THE FUCK MAN, _Zack's jaw fell unhinged, suddenly finding himself violently stumbling away from the summon before him.

Tseng went on in his queer drone, "If he couldn't handle it, locking it up here seemed the wiser course of action. I think Scarlet considered giving it to Sephiroth for him to tame, but with Genesis' desertion happening around the same time, the motion was ultimately forgotten."

He suddenly faced Zack and gave him a hard once-over, as if measuring something. Zack was prompted to ask, "Uh, what's up?" at that.

To which he replied with cryptic flatness, "Hmm, nothing worth worrying over."

_I think he was just considering letting me handle this thing_.

Zack should've felt slightly honored for it; seeing how it meant the Turk figured him capable of dealing with over-powered beasts, but it merely left him uneasy. Sure, Zack was someone whose only _ever _been beaten by guys like Sephiroth, Angeal, super-powered freaks like them, and a thousand army dudes and their amassed horde of missile-carrying choppers, but giving him a summon like _this _didn't seem like a good idea. Zack felt too weak to deal with this shit right now anyhow.

"So... You definitely _don't _know what this thing is?" He inquired, feeling a need to brush aside the thought.

"I'm afraid not," he shrugged. "Even my previous superior personally didn't see what this thing was; nor was he informed of its name or nature. Whatever the case, its something we don't bother with now."

"So locking it away forever is how you deal with it?"

"Its the only thing we can do," the shorter man reasoned. "You should know fully well just how foolish destroying summons of any sort, no matter how dangerous they are, truly is."

Zack made a non-committal noise in his throat. "No kidding," he mumbled after a moment. Zack folded his arms and tilted his head. "I once ah, knew a guy who met a girl who... eh, _borrowed _ a Bahamut summon. She couldn't control its power and promptly sent it back to the SOLDIER she nicked it from."

"Who was she?" Tseng's brows dipped briefly. He never heard of an incident like this before. Who the heck could steal from a SOLDIER of all things anyway?

Zack waved it off, "Some Wutai refugee. She was... a colorful type."

"Hmm. Sounds like you're familiar with her," Tseng implied.

Zack's answer was too quick to _not _think as suspicious. "Nope! I only heard it from a buddy is all."

Tseng hid his expression well; but internally he couldn't help that brimming chuckle.

"Anyways!" Zack quickly changed the subject. "So, what'cha bring me done here for? It can't be just for Show-and-Tell, or to tell me scary stories. Unless you're trying to deliberately make me piss my pants-?"

The Turk motioned towards the center table, his eyes a dark-gray slate. "To properly arm you, I suppose," he began. "But truly, its to actually divulge the true scope of this operation as well."

"Like you couldn't tell me in your own office?"

"I'd prefer to tell you here," he casually imputed. "Its less prone to interruptions and prying ears."

"Fair enough," Zack waved it off. "So, what's this outfit called anyway? 'Operation: Save Aerith'?"

"More like, Operation: Code Sept-Hypo-Umbra-Garmr."

"Uh... Bless you-?"

"The Septimus Sect," He tried next. "The name of our little group you could say. Formed with the goal of researching, understanding, and diffusing threats like Sephiroth covertly; while protecting the last true-blooded Cetra in the world. We try to make it so that our operations meld with our genuine assignments as cover."

"Right. What about me though? Didn't you make this 'cuz of me?"

A nod, "Originally, yes. But that goal has already been met. Your continued survival as we know will most certainly put a wrench in Shinra's activities though. However what way remains to be seen. The Septimus Sect was tailored to evolve or vanish depending on whether we retrieved you or not, and what you decided to do afterward."

_Hmm. So I'm the lynch pin. Okay, I dig that._

"Right, so it woulda disappeared if I died-?"

"Yes. The Turks would've continued as they always have," Tseng may have replied in his usual apathetic tone, but his blink was enough for Zack to know what he secretly felt about it.

Zack shook his head and asked with a lop-sided shrug, "Okay, so then what was that other crap you sneezed out?"

"Its code, Zack. Figure it out," he sighed, almost aggrieved in his exhaustion.

The taller man snorted and weighed the words anyhow, the terms jostling around a long-lost memory in Zack's head. It was from a time under Angeal's tutelage years ago; early on in his SOLDIER career. He knew these terms; but he only understood half of the obscured meaning hidden within the title.

'Sept' was easy enough to understand; it meant seven- and the numbers usually pointed out the origins of a given order. As an example, Zero meant "direct orders from the president". Whereas One was vice president, Two was Scarlet, Three was R&D (as in Hojo), and so on. Zack never understood why some of the labels were ranked what they were, but he never fretted. He couldn't exactly recall what exec was numbered 'seven', but he believed it might have been a number given to the Turk Director himself. If not, it was likely Heidegger's seeing how his orders affected Tseng's.

_Or was Heidegger Six or five...? Fuck. I can't remember. _He believed the SOLDIER director at some point was probably ranked after Heidegger, but it didn't matter now. No new SOLDIER director was ever hired to replace Lazard.

Whatever the case, Umbra meant shadow or darkness, but that word left him feeling uneasy. That said, Zack certainly recalled that any reference to the word 'Dark' was generally a _bad _term to be hearing. His teacher years ago warned Zack of its meaning; saying that if he ever heard it tied to his own name, he should go _immediately _to Angeal and trust no one else. As for the other words, he didn't remember what hypo meant and 'Garmr' sounded very... very... _something. _Made up maybe.

_But knowing Tseng, its probably one of the most important words to note._

Seeing the welling emotions boiling on his face, Tseng held up his right hand to stop Zack just before he opened his mouth. "Don't fret," he calmly interjected, although not unkindly. "Its not anything as 'final' as what you're thinking. In this case, should anyone outside us seven hear of us, they'll think they're official orders from me or Heidegger."

"Wouldn't they question that?" Zack inquired.

"Hopefully not as long as they don't hear of the details. We hope with these code words they believe its a legitimate operation to chase down AVALANCHE instead; given they find out about it at all. In fact, its perhaps not too far from the truth." The man suddenly smirked, "I deliberately picked a couple of these words from the op codes from that assignment, seeing how its similar in nature. What we're doing ties in with our pursuit of AVALANCHE ultimately."

_So, not a lie at least. Ultimately, they're only omitting an extra set of hands while still covering their bases. Pretty sneaky, Tseng._

"Huh. I guess that works," he nodded.

"Now then," Tseng went and removed something from his pocket on the inside of his tux, his expression flat. Zack lifted a brow at the sight of a small fountain pen as he held it out. _Who the fuck uses a fountain pen these days? Those things are a mess._

"Let's get you started," he said next, twisting off the tip of the thing.

So much for an expensive writing utensil; turned out the thing had a strange pin-like tip meant to act as some sort of key. He inserted it into the side of the table too; leaving Zack to wonder if this thing would only unlock the items in this whole vault or just what's in front of him. Whatever the case, he waited as Tseng fished around the now exposed contents of the table, his expression pensive.

"This will work," he said, picking up a small green orb.

"And this is?" Zack folded his arms again, his eyes cautious and body immediately tensed. The stuff in here was quite volatile after all.

"Levitation materia," He stated, his lips curled minutely. "Its like float in nature, but its a little more... _interesting_. This thing is capable of channeling its energies in not just yourself, but the objects you wield or concentrate on."

"So its floating capabilities extend to stuff instead of people now. Yay," Zack arched a brow and shook his head. "So... Why's this a thing now?"

At the dismissive gesture, the man suddenly smirked and said, "Allow me to demonstrate." He shifted and held up his hand, the materia delving into his flesh. He then scrunched his brows slightly, and breathed.

And then a pair of encircling claret blades wound into the air, their _marginally_ curled edges glittering like blood-stained crescent moons shadowing the other. The twin Wutai-forged glaive-dagger hybrids spun and whirled in a slashing frenzy, flying towards the shorter man and joining their gold-painted pommels' hooked tips in mid-flight.

Zack hadn't expected the move, nor did he see the things rise in the air initially, so he was taken completely off guard and watched in fascinated shock as the intricately-designed, conjoined weapons melded into a double-sided _halberd_. _Like, how freaking cool was that_, was Zack's next thought.

The thing rushed towards Tseng but stopped just before it hit him, drifting lazily and willfully into his waiting hands. He smiled at Zack and gave the thing a little spin, breaking the halberd into two and handing them to his stunned, open-mouthed companion. Zack didn't take them immediately.

He chuckled and _almost _blithely replied, "Levitation was originally just an ordinary float materia, but ultimately saw less use in time, ironically. In foolish oversight, many complained that its a useless spell overall, and was discontinued amongst the combat-heavy divisions. For support however, it was highly valued; despite being unable to necessarily do all the jobs requested by those not at all adept at 'heavy-lifting'."

Tseng gesticulated at Zack as an example in that case, "-For times when the scant SOLDIER wasn't available, the float materia by itself couldn't do more than shield you from Earth-based spells and lighten your weapon load when you're packing heavies. Not really essential for SOLDIER then, seeing how their own strength meant they didn't need the materia in question. But when reforged-"

Tseng gave one of the over-sized daggers- probably a type of mutant glaive the more he scrutinized them- yet another spin, once, then deposited the things into Zack's still open hands. He said, "-Its already innate abilities become more valuable; especially since the drawn on your energy is lessened too. When remade, it can be wielded as effectively as any weapon; and steadily lift more than its previous incarnation."

Zack snorted, giving the two maroon blades a cursory once-over and raising a thick brow. The gold, lacy, tangle of Wutian scriptures along the middle of the blades was eye-catching; along with delicate moon-silver trim on the sharp edges of the otherwise completely crimson blades. The leathery feel of the tanned hides surrounding the hilts was certainly comfortable and well-fitted to Zack's palms. He tossed the daggers into the air and caught both, his movements steady despite being rather unfamiliar with them.

He immediately loved them.

"Float wasn't exactly bad ya know," he rambled, still greedily scrutinizing the twin glaives. "Earth-spells _suck _if you get hit by them, and we both know choppers can't exactly carry a whole lot..."

_The ones that gunned me down must've had float on board, all things considered. They had like, so... much... CRAP. Its like they were armed for war!_

Zack shuddered, coming to this conclusion after seeing how his situation deteriorated the longer he'd resisted the abnormally ruthless Army. Again, it wasn't like Zack was some pushover; he'd trained alongside people like _fucking Sephiroth _and managed to stand toe-to-toe with him sometimes (on a good day). So when the Army showed up packing enough artillery to make even a stalwart Angeal take pause, Zack knew his days were just about numbered.

_They must've had other advantages I didn't know about though. Scarlet's apparently been busy after all... question is, with what and why? The heck's going on in Shinra nowadays? They're runnin' around like headless chickens._

"-I'm not refuting that, but people wanted something with a little more flair," The Director continued with an exaggerated twist of the wrist.

_Oh. He's been talking. I need to stop zoning out._

"-So, the Materia developers threw float into a mako chamber and doused it in various ingredients; hoping to make something new of it. Strangely, this telekinetic effect resulted from its initial gravity-defying abilities; like a branch of its original powers. So old materia can be reforged into something newer every time you play around with it."

"Huh. And to this effect too-? Man," Zack watched as Tseng removed the materia from his right arm, where it had migrated during his casting. He always knew materia fusion had been a working process at some point, but he never knew it could create things this powerful. "So you can like, summon a discarded weapon to your side _at will_? Like, I can throw an axe, and expect to actually get it back just by thinking about it?"

"Just as you saw, yes," Tseng's reply was an exasperated one; as if Zack's question was a stupid one. Zack sniffed at it and almost rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, and with a lazy toss he almost didn't see coming, Tseng turned over the fist-sized crystal to Zack and moved his arms behind his back, his next smile rather self-satisfied. He then added, "Still, make sure to focus on small or medium-sized things though; as anything larger will give you a nauseating headache and probably leave you unconscious in some circumstances. Levitation may be capable of more, but with your current physical condition, its best to not push your luck and strain yourself."

The man heaved a breath that left Zack the impression of just how exhausted the Turk was; although he didn't comment. Tseng merely went on with, "You can actually still use the original float effect too; but only on one person at a time sadly. I'm afraid the draw of energy on actual people instead of inanimate matter is still on the substantial side. Not as much as before, but still noticeable."

Zack snorted, but didn't dwell on it; it wasn't like he had any intention on using it on anyone but himself anyways. So no complaints there. For the moment, he could only ask, "Wait, you're actually _giving _it to me? Just like that?"

"No. You're borrowing it for your assignment," he confirmed. "I'm going to need that back at some point. It may be a working piece of equipment that's been tested and deemed 'safe', but its no less dangerous. Besides, there's too few to afford to lose."

"Aw. No fun, but okay." Zack lamented. "So, what about these things I'm holding? These blades?"

"Ah. Those you can keep," the man said. Zack did a little happy dance on the inside at this, a grin easily splitting his face. Tseng ignored it as he went on, "-They're refined Wutian steel folded and tempered not unlike Sephiroth's Masamune; they're pretty damn sturdy, but not meant for long, enduring skirmishes. I'm not an expert, but I think they were touched upon with SOLDIER specifications in mind, so therefore shouldn't shatter in your hands. Unfortunately, they weren't very popular due to their tricky difficulty; but for you, I think they'll do."

He shrugged next, "This said, they're not getting any real use here anyways; not by Turks or otherwise. I have a fair set of pairs like that lying about, so should something happen to yours, they can be replaced. Moreover, I know those will see better care in your hands. They're receptive to materia too; so you can channel spells through them."

_They're like knife-versions of Genesis' sword_, Zack realized. He couldn't help his shit-eating smirk at that point.

"Oh, so you're giving me an expensive dual-sword-knife thingies that can morph into a man-sized spear and not the awesome mutated mega-materia that's pretty much like fancy telekinesis?"

"Yup."

_Asshole. Turks are sure stingy. Ah well; its not like I can complain. _

"Okay then," Zack shrugged, deciding to let go of the topic, for now. These things were pretty cool as far as he was concerned, so he wasn't entirely bummed out. "Anything else?"

"Hmm."

With that genial nod, the man was seen bending over the table and sifting through his repertoire, his expression neutral. He eventually grabbed another green materia and tossed it to Zack, then picked up a yellow one, shook his head and set it down. He did this for the next minute or so, his expression contemplative.

Zack held the new orb he'd been given, trying to feel out its energy. Absorbing the materia usually told you what it did; it fed its powers to its wielders minds by directly giving them its innate knowledge; like the Ancients themselves whispering their secrets into your ears. _Or into your mind_, was the more correct term. However, due to the unbalanced and likely unpredictable nature of the materia, he didn't meld it with either his new blades nor himself.

"What's this one?" He eventually asked, interrupting Tseng's measured but slow search.

"Cloak," was his dry reply. "You don't have to worry; that spell is entirely safe to use. You're going to need it anyways; more than you'll ever know."

Zack huffed, knowing that such a name already bespoke of what this thing did; and what it meant. "You're _real_ serious about me not fighting then, huh?" He wearily inquired, turning the little emerald gem around in careful rumination of its potentially advantageous situational abilities.

Tseng stopped his search and moved his hands behind his back, his stare dead-pan but hooded jointly. A sigh was heard, his voice suddenly resigned, "Its better that way. Remember what I said about your fighting style?"

"Yeah yeah. I know." _I'd get recognized for it_, he knew. _Its probably why he gave me the daggers._

Tseng turned back towards the table and added, "Besides, if you're going back out into public so damn soon, you might as well stay out of sight."

"Outta sight, outta mind."

"That's the point," he smirked, albeit the gesture didn't reach his eyes.

Tseng then returned his attention to the table of dangerous, weaponized-contents, turning over blades and materia alike. He picked up yet another green orb, handing it casually to Zack. The thing was tinted yellow as it caught light, but was no less a deep sea green as typical of most 'magic' materia.

"Now," he began. "-As it were, I think _this _will be something you'll make great use of too."

"What is it?"

"'Aegis Shield'," was Tseng's answer. "Formally a Wall materia, but fused with curing spells in an attempt to make a barrier that can heal. Sadly, this didn't happen. However, the one boon it gained from its many fusions was its ability to adeptly reflect or absorb energy in general. You can recycle stolen energy and use it to fuel the multi-faceted, 'ultimate', shielding capabilities. Truly, a valuable materia to wield. I suppose in hindsight, this end result was better than the original plan."

Zack's next puzzled expression prompted the man to add, "Its probably best you see for yourself should a huge death-ball of radiated energy come flying your way. Knowing you, that's liable to happen at _some _point; so you'll know what I mean then."

Zack only nodded and grinned lopsidedly next, "Okay. I'll be careful with it too: I'll totally not throw it into the ocean!"

Tseng sniffed and shook his head, then withdrawing yet more gear. He handed Zack a typical Curaga materia alongside another tinted green-yellow one, not unlike Aegis Shield. At Zack's stare, the man readily supplied what they were in nature each turn.

"High Jump," was what that latter materia was. The next green one was a hyper-evolved Haste spell. "Chronos," was what he called it. He also relinquished a Fire and Ice spell for his blades to have; where there was a hole in the guard for the materia to slot into. After those two, he gave no more to Zack, instead moving over to the left side of the table and sorting through the rest of sword-like equipment.

As Zack fitted the last two spells into the twin blades, he couldn't help but figure this one glaring observation he'd come to without much ruminating. He passed the other man a wary glance and sighed heavily, _He's not arming me with ways to fight Sephiroth, Shinra, or AVALANCHE at all. He's merely giving me ways to __**escape**__ them. To stay hidden, safe; that's all he clearly wants-_

_Shit. I never got the hint that he cared like that; he always acted like we were acquaintances at best. _His mouth thinned, _And yet, he knows what kinda person I am: I don't plan on letting Aerith stay in AVALANCHE's company any longer than we need to. He knows I'm a fighter, and yet he's giving me this crap? Ugh. I guess he's expecting me to figure this much out and trust me to __**remain**__ staying out of trouble._

_...Still, I'd hafta eventually confront those bozos and get Aerith and Cloud back, but only when my body's a little better healed. It was a rushed job after all._

As if to drive home that point, Zack felt a searing cough rise to the back of his throat, lodging a frog there where it'll stay to annoy him for at least a day. He went to clear it, but crouped and felt a mild build of fluid. He wanted to spit; but he wasn't going to do in this here in the Vault, and _especially _not in front of Tseng. This in mind, he swallowed it and felt immediately disgusted and bothered all at once. His left side pulsed in a grim reminder of his condition too, and he couldn't help but feel his spirits sink as he begrudgingly noted his current impotence.

_..._

_..._

_..._

_God. When did I become such a thoughtful pansy? Thinking isn't my strong suit; I had bosses being paid to do the strategizing for me not that long ago. _

Tseng passed the taller man a glance when he heard the cough, but he said nothing. He merely gestured and drew Zack's attention to the table. The latter complied and strode over, shifting his weight to one leg and folding his arms; carefully tucking the Wutian daggers underneath one pit.

"Here's something to put those in," he said, passing him a pouch with a series of straps and adjustable belts on it. Zack placed the things inside and looked up suddenly when Tseng added, "-And, I'm giving you liberty to chose what you want here. You should at least have something you can wield effectively; should those daggers somehow _break_."

"An actual sword, right?" Zack's sharp sapphires darted over the plethora before him, already excitedly measuring each blade.

A nod. And then, "I'm aware of the fact that nothing here can hold a candle to your Buster Sword, so I apologize for the slim pickings."

Zack gave Tseng an appreciative smile this time, "Its cool. I'll just pick one and be happy with it. Then we can get underway, right?"

"Certainly. The sooner the better."

"Gotcha."

The ex-SOLDIER went around the entire table and picked up varying blades of varying types; weighing them in both hands and briefly giving the things a swing or two while pivoting on his heels and feet. He moved in deliberately slow motions; hoping to not aggravate any wounds stressing at him; but to also get an accurate feel of the weapon he's using.

Quite a majority he was familiar with, but none seemed to correspond to how he usually moved nor fit his style. And if one considered his physical condition as well, then it left his choices a tad slimmer. Undettered however, Zack diligently scoped every single sword; short, long, hand-and-a-half, sword staff (it was similar to his dual daggers in some ways, but it didn't work out due to its more pronounced thrust and less swing), rapier, Dao, standard, unheard of, and even a set of double swords fastened to a single guard and hilt. They wouldn't break off though; and Zack didn't much care for how it handled.

Eventually, he sighed and picked up his last choice: A Frankish type that wasn't too dissimilar from a SOLDIER's typical long sword; but was indeed a tad shorter in length. It was essentially a lighter hybrid of the two actually. The pommel had a blue materia in it; but the spell Zack picked up from it was more support. Likely, it boosted the blades' existing properties but he had no idea of what exactly. He did see another hollow in the silver guard, so perhaps another decent spell could work for it. He nodded as he noted that it wasn't _too _heavy for his strained capabilities and it suited his usual style in some way.

He turned to Tseng and grinned, pumping a fist in his measured excitement, "Gotta sheathe for this thing?"

Tseng bent under the table and drew out its respective case; a long coal-colored sheathe with a small series of leather straps with a magnet attached to it, not unlike standard SOLDIER wear. He handed it to Zack and shook his head suddenly, "Don't fight with this thing if it can be helped. I know its the closest to what you're familiar with, but keep in mind the repercussions of extended-"

"Yeah yeah, I know already! I plan on using the dagger-spear thingies more often anyways," Zack waved off. He then grumbled in an nearly inaudible undertone, "Geez, you're worse than my mom."

The Director nodded with what Zack thought was satisfaction- _relief maybe_. At least he ignored the last comment too. "Good," he breathed instead, seeing that he's driven his point home. "Now that we have your weapons, lets get you into an attire more appropriate for the job ahead."

He turned towards the table and fastened the glass back; using the pin-pointed fountain pen-key to lock it up. He inspected the rest of the room and made sure everything else was in order before turning towards their only exit, flicking his head for Zack to follow.

Once they made their way back to the elevator, Tseng opened his cell and began to text; but Zack couldn't see the name. He closed it afterwards and heaved a long-suffering sigh. "As you should know," he began. "Your first mission is to search Hojo's previous project prior to his relocation to Midgar."

"-Which sits in Nibelheim, right?"

Tseng opened his mouth to say, but Zack shook his head and pronounced with every iota of his newly mustered resolve, "Look, don't worry about it, okay? I know you don't wanna ask me to go back, but I'm gonna do it anyway. I actually _really _wanna know what that friggin' psycho did to me an' Cloud; whether or not you said so."

The Director of the Turks gave the man a meaningful side-long stare that lingered long enough to emphasize his inner disquiet. Despite this, Zack merely pumped a fist again, giving the man his best cocksure smile, "Don't sweat it! I'll do some serious digging and tell ya what I find; and avoid trouble to the best of my ability. I swear it."

The elevator passively stopped at the lobby, and both men stepped out. Seeing no one around, Tseng turned and said, "So, you're completely alright with this operation? Truly?"

"For crying out loud, yes," Zack groaned. "I'm completely okay with going back. Its not like I'd be there long right?"

"Hopefully not," Tseng replied, his expression bland; _not promising anything _if Zack was reading it right. "-If you think there isn't anything there at all, especially considering that Hojo may have retrieved his data at some point, you're free to leave."

"And... I get the feeling I'll have another assignment after that-?"

Tseng moved towards the left side of the lobby, where a ebon door stood. He confirmed it with, "Yes, but that won't be until you're fully healed. You still need a couple more weeks."

"Aw come on," Zack slumped forward and then furiously jabbed a finger to his chest. "I can totally deal with whatever you-"

"_No_. You can't," He asserted with glacial finality. "Even though its fair to say you've survived being shot in the head at point blank range, plus whatever other shit-storm you've endured, you needn't push yourself anymore than you _have _too. If its unavoidable, then by all means, defend yourself with the materia I gave you. But-"

He got right into the other's personal space so _suddenly _the ex-SOLDIER was fumbling over and jumping back out of surprise. Zack threw up his hands and leaned away, his gesture almost submissive in nature.

Tseng proceeded with a completely profound lack of inflection, his tone the straight definition of monotone, "-We're going to wait until you're _properly healed _before we send you out to do anymore strenuous, potentially combat-affiliated missions. With the long excursions in-between destinations, I think its fair to say you should be alright before long. As for dealing with Aerith, we're still devising a clean way to drag her out of danger as a whole."

He sighed, his tension seeping as if his very life was sucked away, "I'm hoping with some touch of time, we'll see an opportunity open itself up. If not, we make one; and that's what we're doing." He narrowed his eyes a bit next, "-I want to make it so that when you're physically able to in the weeks to come, _you'll _be the one to carry it out: We need to make it so that when she vanishes, no one will _ever _go looking for her again; not Shinra, not Hojo, not _anyone_. No one will suspect that a dead man went to spirit the girl away, and only said dead man _could_. Got it?"

Zack didn't reply to that; the man's word only made sense in some ways. Not that long ago Zack had been telling himself to try to take it easy; and he felt immediately stupid for so easily forgetting that. His excitement to be up and out of this place though had already purged it from his mind however; a remnant of his older, less patient self.

"Besides," Tseng continued. He blinked and an air of solemnity overtook the air. "-So long as she exists, Shinra will _never _let the last of the Ancients go. Aerith will never find peace, will never settle in one place for more than days at best... Gods forbid she tried having a family-"

Zack couldn't help but cringe at that; and it was for a plethora of reasons both men mutely acknowledged.

Tseng hung his head next, "Even Aerith's friends and family, children or no, will be targeted for the rest of their days. Look at what happened to Ifalna: For the girl, its a cursed way to live; being what she is. She'd be caged like some dying breed of exotic animal if she's ever caught."

This sudden picture painted a gut-wrenching image of the girl in a confining glass cylinder, unable to do more than walk in place and cry her heart out for days without end. Zack's jaw suddenly clenched so _tightly _his teeth ground painfully together; his usual tame fury violently whip-lashing forth in a righteous conflagration. Outwardly though, he could only lower his hands and felt his shoulders droop, his heart sinking similarly.

"...So... you mean it needs to look like she, what, _dies _or something-?" He tried, somewhat dreading the enormity of such a goal. His eyes narrowed as well, but it wasn't a scowl meant for his Turk companion.

Tseng's arms went behind his back and the man pragmatically weighed the question. His answer was an affirmative nod, although his eyes bore an odd and unreadable emotion Zack couldn't hope to make out. "Something of the sort," was his next careful reply. "Staging a false death will likely divert their attention on Sephiroth wholly: and keeping them focused on him is _exactly _what we need right now."

"-And the goal to find the Promised Land? What'll happen to it should Aerith successfully disappear and that little convoluted scheme fizzles?" Zack folded his burly arms and raised a brow. "I wouldn't think Rufus would be short of _some _kinda plan."

So said the Director, with a mild shrug thrown in, "That's their problem, and own self-imposed loss. You see what's becoming of the company nowadays." He waved an arm about for added emphasis, "We're settling ourselves with unrealistic goals in order to make profits, while selling people and moral ethnics on the side like they're cheap trinkets in the slums Wall Market. If Shinra's only hope exists with some old bedtime story at this point, then we're doomed to failure in the most profound and damning ways. I daresay Shinra did better back when it was a manufacturing company at this point, and I wasn't even around for that."

_Jeez. Harsh. Not that I disagree though..._

_Still... _Another frown wove itself into existence as Zack weighed the possibility. He couldn't help but come to this morbid scenario as it formed, _What about the Turks? Don't they live or die based on the company's success? If Shinra were to disappear, what'll happen to you personally, Tseng? And all the guys who follow you-?_

_..._

_If your little plan sinks, your whole crew comes down with you. Is that really what you want? Is Aerith's sake and my own really something you want to risk the entire Turk division for?_

Zack would do it for brother in need; no questions asked, and for a pretty girl like said Ancient on the side. Its hard to tell if Tseng had the same feelings for that matter, but it certainly implied it.

Before the larger man could ask though; the smaller one was already turning his attention to the black door. He opened it without a gesture or word; expecting Zack to follow. To which the other did, and silence resumed between them. Resolving to speak to Tseng about this at a later time, Zack merely (or rather reluctantly) shelved the doubt temporarily.

The next hall was a normal, generic looking one; although with doors to what looked like typical offices like you see just about anywhere. Boring paint job, redundant landscape paintings, the works. Zack was already bored of it before he took more than ten paces.

Tseng went on, stopping at a fog-tinted glass door six doors down on the left. "Your new clothes are here, among the last of your gear," he said, completely dropping their previous topic without pretense. "Hendels' made sure to leave you with some essentials; make sure to take everything out of your locker and don it. Pack away the rest; your excursion is going to be rather lengthy. Once you're finished, head back to the elevator and head for the top level; that's where your ride awaits."

"Wait wait wait- what?"

Tseng handed him a small, flat device and stepped away, "Also, here's your new cell phone. I've put in numbers for _just _those that know you're alive; among both of my personal contacts. I only ask you use the secondary line for whatever you report; the first line is my official, but we both know how Shinra deals with personal info..."

_Ohhhhh..._

It was no surprise; Shinra had a history with tapped lines and eavesdropping on conversations meant to never be heard. Even Kunsel at some point got an unregistered hand-set so he could speak to Zack not long before the latter was deployed to Nibelheim. It wasn't great at long-distance; but feasible for receiving _some _messages. The long and short of it was that Zack should use the secondary and not touch the other; he guessed he could only use the former for emergencies of _some _kind.

"Lemme guess," he mouthed with some bitter chuckle, turning the new phone over. "This isn't a legal number?"

Tseng's next smirk matched his own, his eyes glinting. Then, "Indeed. As it were, you should know _not _to try calling anyone you knew either. Besides being a major security risk, chances are the people you knew might've changed their numbers too. So don't be going around making phone calls I don't know about-"

"Oh sure. Thanks, _Mom_," Zack groaned.

"You're welcome," Tseng snarked.

Zack snorted and stowed away the new model; he'd have to play with it later. Phones had apparently changed somewhat in the time he'd spent being Hojo's play-thing.

After which, so said the Director, "I'll be waiting on the roof with your ride and further instructions. Be ready to deploy immediately." And just like that, the man turned on his heel and left Zack to his own devices, his hands once again intertwined behind his back.

Zack shook his head and turned towards the door, finding it unlocked and heading right in. What he was greeted with was another dull room with what looked like typical Shinra-standard cabinets on the two walls to his immediate left and right; among with lockers with names in darkened plates on each one. Said lockers stood right in front of him from where he entered in the room. There was a small bench in front of them too; like you'd see in a gym. He figured it was a weird changing room of some kind; personal affects were certainly protected here nonetheless.

He strode forward and raised an eye-brow: One locker on the left-most side of the compact modules had a large, folded piece of paper stuck to it with tape; with Hendel's name written on it in neat, cursive handwriting. A medium-sized pack was sitting on the floor in front of it; likely to stow away Zack's current wear. Zack approached the locker and took the note in hand, opening it carefully. He felt his nose twitch when he noted how long it was:

_**Zack**_**, **it began. _**The clothes I have here for you were made with your physical infirmities (and combat-associated specifications) in mind, regardless of your answer to Tseng's proposal. You're to take these clothes as a gift for making it through what would've killed anyone else. :)**_

_Why would there be a happy face here? _Zack smacked his lips in consternation.

_**-I apologize if you find anything lacking, but hopefully it'll do for now. Do make sure to contact me if anything goes amiss, or if you should need me in any way. I make it a habit to keep in contact with my clients actually, and seeing as you've no actual personal doctors due to your incognito status, come to me if ever you need to. My number should already be in your phone (Given Tseng remembered to actually give it to you). If not, here it is:**_

Zack nodded to it and checked his new device again, fumbling around with it for a full minute before belatedly realizing how it worked. _Touch-screen_, was his mute thought as he unlocked it. Once he made sure the number was already in his contacts list, he returned his attention to the note.

_**Keep in mind, should you have agreed to Tseng's proposal wholly and completely, read on and take careful note:**_

_**I've amended some of files and personal dossier you've previously had in Shinra. As you already know, anyone whose been coded 'Zero-Zero-Umbra' (or simply 'dark') has been essentially erased from the system in general. Like, completely. So technically you don't exist AT ALL except for what little Hojo may have had of you.**_

_**...I know. Its probably a grim reminder for you, but true.**_

_**Point is, whatever scraps I managed to find were reforged and re-purposed into a false identity. Please take care to adapt this new name(s) for the time being, and keep your face covered when you're out and about. You were pretty dang famous at some point; we don't want anyone recognizing you by mistake. For more information, yet again, feel free to contact me or Tseng.**_

_**From now on, my friend, Zack Fair is officially **_**K.I.A. **_**While serving alongside the Turks, you'll technically have two names; your 'wannabe' Turk name, and your face name. However, you're to respond to this latter name alone, and nothing else in most cases. **_

_**The 'Turk' name is something the Department of Administrative Research bestows to those who are proficient in an certain areas of expertise. Considering your incredible versatility and general hardiness, and mastery of sword-play (I'm probably laying it on thick but meh), your closed-doors name is 'Glaive'.**_

_**This name will protect you within the Turks as well. Many trainees and recruits are given names like this before they're officially made one into one. For you though, its an additional layer of cover. Names like the ones you likely know, like 'Reno' or 'Judet' aren't closed-doors names; but face names as example. Use 'Glaive' should any Turk other than Tseng, Cissnei, and any other privy to your secret approach you.**_

"Um, okay but... _huh-_?" Zack shook his head and scratched at it next, perplexed by the development. He lowered the note and then pondered what he read; the mystique surrounding Cissnei's identity truly murky. He snorted and read on, most certainly heart-felt on learning what her other name was later.

_**Your other name is what you and your partners, or anyone outside the Turks for that matter, should know. Train yourself to respond to this name more readily. Your new name, the one I've stamped onto your revised files, will now be 'Garm'. The last name doesn't matter really, but for your information, its 'Sturges'.**_

"...'Garm'?" Zack mouthed with distaste. "-'Sturges'? Dude, like, what the fuck?" He felt his teeth tighten as he flipped it next; the paper was turning into a real page-turner with how freaking long it was.

_**...At any rate, keep these secrets close to your chest; let no one see the hand you deal. This said, once you've read this information and successfully filed it away, burn this note: No paper trail must remain. Absolutely NONE.**_

_**In summary: No paper trail, respond to 'Garm' when approached by most anybody, and reply to 'Glaive' should a Turk other than Tseng approach you. The clothes are gifts; keep them. Come to me or the Director if you have any needs or questions. Remember to burn this and dispose of anything relevant to your previous self.**_

_**...I'm sorry for what's happened to you, Zack; but hopefully its all temporary. I know good things will happen soon. I dunno how or when or where, but they will. YOU were always the person to make these things happen; and that's the truth. After all, I couldn't really picture Tseng picking out anyone else for the job in the least.**_

_**Don't lose sight of your goals, and your dreams. They may be nearer than you think.**_

_**-Hendel**_

Zack shook his head and tucked the note aside; making a mental note to probably phone the eccentric doctor when he could. The last words in the letter (essay-?) were something he couldn't help but feel were genuine in some way; but it did little to lift his morose mood. He could only file this away as he had everything else this night; mentally steeling himself to don his new persona.

He opened the locker and found a pile of freshly laundered articles inside next, but he couldn't help but take pause as he surveyed it. He saw a couple of glowing mako viles (SOLDIER requirement for various reasons), some tiny medication bottles with Zack's- _Garm's _name on it to treat his respiratory difficulties, and the mass of new shirts, armors, and fatigues all crammed into the tiny space.

As he pulled one of the larger clothes out, this one, horrid, _terrible_ thought clawed relentlessly into his distracted mind. That slithering, unmentionable_ thing _in his belly was coiling again, prompting for a stint in all bodily functions. A rabbit frozen in fear; a deer in the headlights; _whatever _the saying was. His inner disquiet was stirring into a restless flurry that beat a frenetic tempo in his scarred breast; sweat beading in his palms and temples without warning. His stomach plummeted to God-knows-where, leaving a nauseous trail in its wake.

Zack Fair was truly gone.

Once he donned this garments in earnest, he'll ultimately leave behind the man he once was, and march into a difficult, not at all _completely_ assured alliance with the Turks and war with the world that sought to put him down for years now. The older SOLDIER had gone to tread where hope had withered; trampled and forgotten like some nameless face in a midst of some great tumult despite his earlier prestige. He never returned from that Hellish mission in Nibelheim; apparently having loyally served his tenure and given some bull-shit 'honors' via bullet-to-the-head and needle-to-the-ass.

He'd be a Turk in all but name; a man on a mission with no true background or notable upbringing. Should he somehow die in this mission to save Aerith from a life of perpetual running, the Turks could technically deny all association with him. He had no papers; merely computerized documentation for some doctor's benefit; its likely he could delete it with one or two swift clicks. He wouldn't even be a _memory_. He'd erased from all existence.

He'll be someone- _something _else, entirely. A nobody no one knew; a human thorn in Shinra's side, sure, but no longer a man with _god damn dreams of being a hero._

He was no one's standing pillar of hope, not a guardian to someone's hopes and dreams, nor a legacy. He wasn't Angeal's successor, nor Sephiroth's last surviving friend; not even his own reflection would be his. He would be Garm; the obscure vigilante castaway borne of his former self's great shadow. A shadow of a shadow cast from not an epic hero of his dreams, but of an unwanted and apparently _dead fugitive and experiment_.

_And Cloud would never know. Nor would his parents, or his friends..._

_-Or Aerith._

Zack suddenly dropped the clothes and felt a breath violently stop in his throat; his hand flying to mouth. His chest contracted in a painful, shuddering tremor; a sob angrily fighting its way out of his bone-dry throat. That angry tendril of _nope _from earlier sunk its fangs into his gut wall; punching holes through him.

Suddenly, the room had no air; not enough space, it was like _being in Hojo's fucking tank all over again_. He stumbled backward and fell onto a bench in front of the locker, heaving and fighting the tears and dread sucking all the _sense _out of him. His body was suddenly leaden; his lungs shrinking shrinking _shrinking _-

When he dies, he would truly die alone. It was true that no one person really journeyed into Death's waiting hands with another beside them; it was the one absolute, bare-bones truth. They could only stand at their back, as Cloud had for Zack.

For Zack, when he faced Hell's fire and weathered its searing wrath, he _truly _stood alone. Cloud may have been there, yes, but he was never a brother at his _side_. He'd only ever stood behind Zack, and never more than once in Nibelheim did he stand as something else.

Nonetheless, Zack thought he'd been okay with it; believing he'd been preserving his aspirations and undying will into every drop of blood he either bled or spilled. Into every cleave he cut, his inhuman strength was vehemently burned and immortalized into the eyes of his last triad of foes; his requiem the parting words he bestowed to Cloud. When he stood alone in those wastes not so long ago, he'd been _himself _and no one else; and he'd been _damn proud of it_. Liberated even, perversely enough. He'd die as Zack Fair; a true and tried friend and brother and guide to all the faded dreams and shredded humanity of his forgotten fellows.

But after today? He'd be nothing. Not even a passing glance in the annals of his friends and family's history. They'd only know of what Shinra told them, or what they've last seen of him _five freaking years ago_. Cloud may feel differently, an exception to that rule perhaps; but the poor fool had been traumatized by his ordeal. Its possible he wouldn't even remember Zack's last words to him.

_As if that's a thought to weigh_, Zack viciously snarled in an effort to ground himself. _Believe that Cloud wouldn't let you down like that. Believe that. C'mon._

It was all he had, but even then Zack Fair knew with Cloud's hidden ailments would blur what he left behind. Zack willed himself to straighten his spiraling mind out and tried to draw breath.

_I gotta fix 'em. I gotta save Cloud, and Aerith. And their future. I gotta... I just-_

Zack tried counting; tried to stop shaking. When he did start shaking like that? He didn't know, nor did he care. He only needed control. _Keep calm. Keep calm_,he told himself. He gasped, sputtered, and then _held_. He did whatever he could to get back what was his; he'd be damned if he lost himself now after all the crap he's been through.

Eventually, through seconds or moments (he couldn't tell), an odd and brittle semblance of calm started to lull at him the more he pondered Cloud and Aerith. He told himself to be their hidden protector; their imaginary angel. He'd be their Hero; and not just a memory. He'd be their foundation, their wall. He'd be their gods-quintuple-damned _champion _all without their knowing. His ability to protect them and assure a future for Aerith would become his new goal.

_And then fuck all the rest. I'd die happy with that. Men don't cry for themselves after all, right Angeal?_

That's when he finally managed to get enough sense to fish out his new respirator; flipping the switch and fumbling with it briefly. He was showed (more like drilled) on how it worked before being discharged by Hendel, but he temporarily forgot how to use it and almost flipped out again. Still, Zack's honed ability to reclaim his scattered calm helped him get the clunky medical mask over his mouth and nose; greedily sucking air in a steadily more rhythmic manner.

Five minutes or so passed. He didn't count. And then, finally, he was able to _breathe _again; his heart moving in its usual semi-lazy tempo. His body slumped forward on the bench, his shoulders bunched and elbows at rest on his knees. Already, exhaustion seeped from him in droves; his worn mind and tattered sense of understanding fraying at the ends.

For someone around his mid-twenties, Zack sure did feel stupidly, dumbly, terribly _old_. He couldn't help but laugh at the irony; he once made fun of Angeal for looking like he was twice his age not long after they first met. Granted, Angeal didn't appear _that _old; but certainly enough to speak like he was your dad or something. Zack's newbie (or rather blatantly disrespectful) decision to outright laugh at his new mentor certainly earned him enough bruises to keep his mouth zipped shut for the next few years.

_Hoo boy. Good times._

At the sudden recollection of a time long past, he took off the mask and turned the weird thing off; finding the energy to squint at it and sigh. He didn't like the thought of having to use it, and especially so soon after his release; but what fighter would? He needed to keep himself altogether or risk falling apart even before the journey started; and he couldn't exactly be Aerith or Cloud's savior when he couldn't save himself to start with.

_Men don't cry for themselves, _he kept repeating inwardly, hoping to bind its meaning to some form of foundation for himself. If he had a mantra to protect himself with, perhaps he could fall to that in times like this.

Feeling his nerves steeled and his worry kept in check, Zack went to stand but felt his knees wobble warningly. Spots danced around his vision for a second, but the sensation was gone before he had time to acknowledge it. He took his sweet time getting up, his chest shooting a random bout of thorny pain across his left side before dissipating without a trace oddly enough. He ignored it, steadily drawing himself to his full height and scooping up the forgotten shirt he dropped earlier.

He turned it over and heaved forlornly, resolving to guard himself against his own inner doubt before it swallowed him in its malicious entirety yet again. There was no turning back; this he knew and been knowing ever since he broke out of Nibelheim. Even though he _had _a girlfriend and family to get back too, most everything else had shriveled away and was blasted into the winds by a rabid torrent of Hell-born fire and ash. Aerith and Cloud and his parents were his only connections to the past and he wasn't allowed to interact with them beyond what Tseng dictated. Although he didn't like this, Zack swallowed his medicine like the big boy he was.

After all; he had to cast a new mold and hoped he'd fit into that with time. Whatever shape it took though, was beyond him.

Zack packed away his respirator and put the pack aside; hurriedly fitting himself into his new clothes. _Times' a-wastin', _he told himself as he threw off his hoodie and black jeans even before he managed to pry off his shoes. He almost tripped on his duds more than once, but eventually Zack settled on what the Doctor ordered and put on his new personality with fewer qualms than before. He still had those, yes, but he wasn't as bothered by it as he considered the things he was capable of in the shadows; things he couldn't manage when his name was more renown.

It was time to embrace his new reality; whether he liked it not. He might as well make the most of it.

His old flame, his unprotected flower in very real danger of wilting, Aerith, and his slightly sick little buddy, Cloud, were depending on him.

* * *

~777~

Tseng waited outside on the roof a little longer than expected, but he wasn't disappointed when he saw the newly transformed man approach him. He even grinned in his own small way, his slate-colored pupils glinting.

Zack- or rather, the new 'operative' _Garm _padded forth, emerging from the open elevator shaft in a cautious, long-loped stride. His low-rise combat boots hardly made much noise despite their weight and type; likely achieved from long, practiced hours of moving around in them. His sheathed weapons and their minute _klink_ more profoundly marked his approach; although the twin glaives weren't initially visible unless he turned around. The fully-sheathed long-sword was visible- there was no helping that, but its presence drew any attention away from whatever else the newly instated agent have on his person.

The man's whole body was covered- not an ounce of skin to be seen except for the smallest bit of cheek bone beneath his dark-rimmed eyes. Said region were still pretty pale as a result of his health, but his mako eyes were as lurid, defiant, and unwavering as ever. His eyes were heavily shadowed by the hood drawn up over his head though; and said hood was fastened to the coat itself as a detachable part. If ever the man felt he wanted to remove it, he could undo two buttons and a zipper attaching it to the collar. It didn't completely eliminate the trademark SOLDIER glare utterly, but a set of tinted goggles or keeping his face lowered in general might fix that.

His arm-length gloves were lightly armored bracers, wound all about his limbs with belted straps. He wore tactical trousers- combat pants with the knee pads sewn into them as well. His gunmetal-black fitted leather trench coat stopped at his waist, the rivets attached to a series of belts that helped keep his blades' leather straps stuck to his torso.

With the exception of his aforementioned features, his whole face was concealed: A breathable durasteel-colored respirator mask usually used for more polluted areas (probably not unlike Midgar's own air) covered the man's face from the bridge of his nose down. It wasn't the part attached to his emergency pouch; that stayed on his right side in a small satchel. The one he wore currently probably helped Zack breathe in this dank city, besides providing cover for who he was.

Stopping just a yard or too shy of the Director, the former SOLDIER folded his over-large arms; further accentuated by the braces. He cocked a hip too, waiting for the man's command in silence.

Tseng felt his lips slip further up, feeling pleased with the meticulously ornate get-up. He kept his hands inter-locked behind him, his shoulders square. "Not bad," he started. "You look shifty as Hell. But with your new cloak materia, I'm sure staying hidden won't be a problem. You might want to practice training your habits out of your gestures though."

The "Hmm?" that came out was _very _muffled; almost distorted entirely. If Zack chose to lower his voice, he could probably successfully hide that too. "Whaddya mean?" he inquired.

"The way you're standing may clue in those that knew you," Tseng stated. "Keep your arms at your sides. Don't ball your fists; look as unaffected by your surroundings as possible."

Zack said nothing, merely trying the stance in question but he felt the incredible desire to resume his previous position.

"There ya go," Tseng nodded. "You actually look intimidating, if its any consolation. I doubt anyone would figure you at your weakest point right now. As an added measure though, try deepening your voice a tad if prompted to speak. Other than that, say as _little _as possible. Got that?"

Zack snorted; a strangely disconcerting noise coming from him with his mask in place. It was like a metal muzzle on an attack dog; its seemed to almost magnify the sound while edging the lower grunts.

_A perverted simile._

Suddenly, the chopper's door slid open, and Cissnei stepped out. With a rather chipper "I'm done with the prep" she went to stand beside her superior. She stopped short when she glimpsed the disguised man before her, her steps faltering. She blinked a couple of times and let her jaw briefly come open and clamp back shut with an audible _click._

"Great Minerva," she said. "I actually didn't know that was _Zack _for a second there."

"Garm," Tseng corrected. "And yet, you think its convincing enough-?"

Cissnei folded her own slight arms; her amber pools level. "He still kinda looks like a SOLDIER, in a way, but definitely not the same. Not one from any recognizable rank." She wrinkled her nose and shook her head while approaching the other; walking around _Garm _in a semi-wide circle. "Actually, he looks like more like a rogue or some variant. Maybe. Don't quote me on that."

"So he still looks Shinra?"

Cissnei gave a firm shake of the head, "No, maybe not so much as I said. I'm not doing it any justice trying to word it. If I had to rephrase, I think he looks more like reject from AVALANCHE. That might work actually." She delicately placed a hand under her chin, her stare lighting up. "-He could probably keep the long-sword stashed away when permitted, and the illusion may be complete. The sword doesn't help the look _too _much."

"I _ain't _ditchin' it," Zack snarled somewhat defensively. It was border-line gravelly in its roughened tone; and a sound Tseng approved of for appearance's sake. No one will know its him if they don't look too closely.

"I didn't say that," the tiny Turk woman quickly amended, started by the barbed comment. "I meant like, during lulls in missions, you could probably hide that thing away and not be automatically associated with Shinra as a whole. We don't want anyone making any snappy connections like I just did."

"Thus the reason I gave him Cloak," Tseng told her.

She blinked in brief surprise and realization. And then, "-'Cloak'? Oh. You mean _that_."

Zack felt a brain-wave hit him; so then he implied, "Did you guys, like, ever use that materia to spy on Aerith at some point?" _And me _was the unspoken bit he never added, but was heard no less.

Cissnei's smile was that cryptic curl again; so it confirmed Zack's query even before he glanced at Tseng.

He snorted again, feeling irritated even though he wasn't surprised. He also decided to get the ball rolling with, "Okay. So, is Cissnei here for a reason or-?"

"She's your new partner: self-volunteered of course."

Tseng felt the large man's eyes narrow pointedly. Trust the man to make Zack second-guess his confidence in him.

This said, the Director seemed to notice Zack's tensed posture and flinty stare and he reasoned, "-She needs to show you how to do your new job _right_; along with keeping an eye on your recovery while being an extra set of eyes for your assignment. She also has the additional benefit of being your driver for this trip," he gesticulated to the chopper behind him. "Its not like _you _know how to drive this thing, right?"

Zack clenched his jaw and smacked his lips; Tseng _did _have a point there.

"She also knows what to look for in Hojo's lab as well, while being able to direct you to his other haunts," the man concluded. "So yes, Cissnei is going to be your partner for a variety of reasons other than the one you're thinking."

Zack almost said "Coulda fooled me" but decided against it. He merely accepted that these reasons were fair terms as he weighed them. He wasn't all the way sure if Cissnei's involvement in his personal search wasn't for a reason he certainly hasn't dropped, but it wasn't like he could contest Tseng's logic.

"Now," The director moved towards the chopper, the other two falling into step behind him. "From henceforth, Zack, I'm going to call you Garm unless I know for sure we're alone, got it?"

A nod followed his statement.

The Turk continued with, "There will be times when other Turks approach you; remember to say this if asked who you are and/or what your mission is: Code: Sept-Zero-Hypo-Subject B- Skol."

"Uh..." Zack raised a pointer finger to ask.

"Don't," Tseng told him. "Cissnei will explain whatever you haven't learned from either me or Hendel. Other than that, I believe in learning on the job."

The man's invisible mouth seemed to clam shut at that. Tseng couldn't tell beyond the mask, but he knew Zack enough to know for sure. Whatever the case, he curtly ordered Cissnei to come forward next. The girl snapped to attention and seemed to know what to do despite there being no following command: Already she was in the helicopter and sitting in the driver's seat before the man could so much as say another word in edgewise.

He turned back to Zack and proceeded with, "Garm, I hope you have everything you need packed. Make sure to triple or even quadruple-check every time you embark-"

Zack folded his arms; dropping the charade again. He knew he couldn't do this so casually after today; but he might as well be straight with Tseng now; not like the man _didn't _appreciate being so clear-cut. Might as well get his thoughts out before he lost the opportunity; its not like he'll be able to do this (not very well anyways) on his unregistered phone.

"Look man," he started, jabbing a gloved finger at him again. "You an' me are gonna have another little get-together one of these days; no shitting me. I wanna know why the ever-loving _fuck _you think its a good idea to be risking your guys' necks for all... _this_." He motioned wildly and then jabbed a thumb to himself; something he did whenever he got agitated despite the convo not being relevant to him half the time. "I want you to promise me that you'll finish explainin' yourself; 'cuz I know you never did in your office!"

It seemed that, no matter what the Director told him, answers or no, Zack would never be fully satisfied with the man's words. Even when Tseng had supplied the reasons for doing what he did, still it wasn't enough for the wayward SOLDIER. His motivations, laid out as he figured they were, didn't seem to satisfy whatever the other wanted to hear in any way. Truly, their friendship still in question even though Tseng complied to Zack's earlier interrogation.

_Well, when it comes to life of one versus the many, and the questionable machinations of one who never sought more than his own lot, then maybe Zack is right to keep pressing. Its why he's still around after all._

At that, Tseng dipped his head in acceptance, nodding to the conditions. "When we meet next," was his reply, throwing in a small smile as well.

"I'll hold you to that," Zack's words were sharp; final. But at least his posture was noticeably more relaxed.

The Shinra helicopter motored to life, cutting through the semi-terse silence between them. Zack strode towards the vehicle and paused at the open door, his blades humming in the winding turbulence. He gave Tseng a meaningful glance over his shoulder, his mako eyes ablaze with his newfound purpose. The corners crinkled, signifying the presence of his usual grin.

"I'll see when I see ya!" He shouted, trying his best to be heard over the din and the muffled effect of his mask.

Tseng nodded, his gut twisting around despite his face revealing nothing of his discomfort.

Zack Fair vanished into the confines of the thrumming machine and pulled the stubborn door shut behind him; the tinted glass utterly concealing all but the distinctive silhouette. It sidled away towards the cockpit, and not seconds later did the chopper take to the air in a gulping maelstrom of shrieking wind. As it steadily rose into the whipping atmosphere, moving in the Southerly direction towards their next destination, Tseng couldn't help his apprehension towards the imminent future this man's survival heralded.

"Good luck, Zack," was Tseng's unheard words at the sight of the retreating bird, uttered in shadowed reverence in hopes for the broken man's absolution.

And then he turned his back on the shrinking speck and returned to his office, just as he always did.


	4. Treaders of Shadows

**Another Author's Note: I've been referencing the Final Fantasy wiki for some of this info, and adjusted cannon scenes and Map points. Remember that its deliberate. I don't write this kind of detailed crap for no reason.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

~777~

Zack coughed into his fist; feeling that frog from earlier in the day kick up a storm now that he was actually _relaxing _several hours after leaving Midgar. Which was _totally _great by the way- go figure.

He made sure his new partner didn't see him open his gloved hand to see if he was still coughing up any unsavory fluids. Thankfully, it was only spit this time; not a drop of blood to be seen. He inwardly thanked Hendel for all of his hard work and sighed, his thoughts drifting to the earthen-eyed Cetra likely making her way to their shared destination.

A part of him wondered if the girl decided to wear pink; but he didn't get his hopes up. Aerith had been clear when she said she wasn't entirely up for the idea at first, favoring her white sun-dresses and dirty gardening gloves as typical wear. She was adorably weird; keeping her appearance pristine but her hands covered in a layer of soil she got from Minerva knows where. He sighed again, his huff catching Cissnei's attention briefly.

_Its been four frickin' years... Why would she wear pink now? She probably thinks you ditched her. What makes you think she'd still be waiting for you?_

Those nasty thoughts were there again; passive-aggressive but present and angry in all of their unvoiced entirety. Zack didn't want to acknowledge the possibility that said girl would've moved on by now, but the words spoke their irrevocable truth like some holy proclamation from on high. Besides, four years was a long time to wait for someone; even though Aerith had been dedicated in sending him the letters all throughout that duration.

So, did she finally give up on him? Did she finally, officially, move on? And even if she did, would she be happy to see Zack safe and sound anyways? She never came off as someone who _wouldn't _be happy for someone else- even if she suffered in the process.

Maybe, yeah. She was waiting. The thought seemed nice enough.

Suddenly, the weighty temptation to open Aerith's case was upon him, but he forcibly suppressed the thought. He still had the case on his person; in his pack with his spare change of clothes. Still, if he opened it now, he was afraid he'd throw all caution to the wind and expose what Tseng had carefully crafted. He didn't want to be a dick that way; so he's profoundly kept the box of letters closed and out of sight.

That said, it didn't stop him from carrying it around though, admittedly. It almost felt like a warming, enchanting prayer of hers; following him around, blessing his good health and fast recovery ever since Tseng gave him the box. Aerith was just calming that way. She'd only want Zack to be happy, whether or not she did end up with someone else.

Not that that thought _didn't _bother him; he still wanted her all to himself. Its the one selfish thought he ever had about anything or anyone. So is that too much to ask?

_Don't jinx it._

Straying thoughts aside, in a show to fold his arms, Zack subtly wiped his gloved hand on his dark camo-colored combat trousers. He then curled up in a tensed ball; his legs fully drawn up on the seat much to the Turk's chagrin. Cissnei had time and time again told him off for putting his boots up on the upholstery, but Zack lazily disregarded it and reminded her that the shoes were _new_; meaning they weren't dirty. Nonetheless, he was slouched heavily in the passenger side of the Bird; Cissnei having giving up reprimanding Zack and quietly steering the helicopter to their predetermined destination in Junon.

She divulged to Zack that their main objective couldn't really start until they make it across the sea, so they're hoping to catch Rufus' Maritime freighter just before it departs. Zack had asked if that was even a _remotely _smart idea to be taking the same ride as Rufus Shinra himself _and _his merry band of attack dogs. He also wondered why the president would be taking off on his world tour in such lack-luster fashion to boot. Cissnei could only shrug in response at first, but it wasn't in uncertainty.

"We don't really have much of a choice," she told him then. "All other methods of transport across the sea are inert currently."

The man couldn't help his jerk in surprise. He blinked rapidly and snorted, "Whaddya mean, 'inert'? Ya can't be tellin' me that as amazing as Shinra is at buildin' crap, you guys seriously can't even manage a single, proper trans-continental plane? Figured you guys had more than just a few planes lying around."

The girl huffed, "We did have a few, yeah. This new one in particular was meant to finish its maiden flight to the other continent and back, but we lost contact around the Gongaga Bay. Somewhere a little more than a hour away from arriving at it destination, the Type-Optima _Gelnika _vanished without a trace."

Zack felt his brows rapidly dart to his hair line; he did _not _need to be hearing about scary stories about flying when he was currently in a helicopter right now.

The Turk saw his expression and sighed good-humoredly. She abated his apprehension by swiftly changing the subject, "There _were _some other aircraft, but one of our primary hangars where our lesser model _Gelnika _was recently detonated too; we don't exactly know if AVALANCHE was to blame for that or not. There's no proof of whether they were responsible for that or if it's a freak malfunction of one of the experimental planes of some kind."

She heaved a heavy breath herself as she elaborated, "Maybe it was the locals' doing; they always seemed rather vocal about us building war machines almost right on top of their town and farm land."

"...I'd bet. People get cranky if your taking their land just to make shit like that and explosive reactors."

Cissnei seemed to clam up at this, her expression somber.

"And the other hangars?" Zack inquired, feeling for a shift in the convo.

"None of them have the vehicles required for what's demanded of them," was her neutral-sounding answer.

Zack snorted, "Pfft. Yeah right. More like everything else wasn't good enough for his 'majesty'. He must've hated the paint job on them other planes. _Gelnika _never did look proper with that ugly color scheme though."

Cissnei's next smile was one of the rarer, wry ones; one with some trace amounts of mirth. "You can say that again," she confirmed, with traces of laughter threading her voice. "Although to be fair, every other aircraft we have are mainly standard-issue helicopters, out-dated _Gelnika_, and the occasional Bi-planes if you can believe it; and there's simply not enough room on them for an entire entourage of guard for the new president. The mobile craft Rufus needs has to be large enough hold more than just a handful of men; maybe carry twenty or more, plus their ration, and their food, all at once."

She wrinkled her nose, "Type-Optima was sufficient, but it was a proto-type; and there aren't anymore like it yet. And frankly, hulling around a flying caravan of Birds full of men isn't really swift nor prudent. Besides weight capacity and difficulty taking off, we don't know if they'll even actually make it without running out of fuel."

"Ah. I bet he doesn't like having so many guys tailing him," Zack mused.

"True, but its temporary. He complained about it initially; but with the death of his father at the hands of _Sephiroth _of all people, the execs figured a little extra 'protection' couldn't hurt."

Zack barked out a hoarse laugh; imagining the look on the brat's face when he's being chewed out by Scarlet and the rest. "Must've been quite a show," he grinned.

Cissnei's next smile was more genuine, "Tseng's _still _trying to wash the filth out his ears. Scarlet yelled enough to wake the dead from what I hear. Actually, that's kinda what he's been doing before coming to see you in the hospital-"

"So dealing with political B.S is part of the job description now?"

"Only if you're Tseng," she giggled.

"Huh. I'm almost sorry I missed it," he chortled.

The girl merely hummed at this, her own smirk evident yet reserved. "Well, anyways, we have a new airship being made as we speak; but work on it isn't done yet. We thought we only needed another three more days to prep, but the engine wasn't firing right. Rufus was actually quite peeved about it," She added. "He wanted it finished before his coronation ceremony, but the narrowed time constraints simply wasn't feasible."

"Freaking brat," Zack rolled his eyes and propped a hand under his jaw, leaning against the chopper's door. Gazing out into the dusty panorama, he could only sigh in exasperation at the current subject of discussion, "-He's a damn spoiled _kid _in a fancy dress tux drinking expensive water, pretending that his pampered childhood wasn't a way for his ol' man to con him into continuing his deluded dreams. Man Shinra is really snow ballin' down hill."

Cissnei didn't reply to that. She instead moved the Bird's stick a tad; the dark vehicle swerving slightly more West until they finished clearing a strip of mountainous land that bordered Midgar's wastes. The land beneath them turned into a wide stretch of river; with waters dark enough to pass as an upside-down, inky night sky. The sun's light refracting and bouncing from the frothy currents resembled swirling comet tails; diamond-tine sparks igniting in its obsidian surface.

Zack gazed contentedly at the whirling world below, feeling his worn nerves settle. He sighed inwardly, doing well to ignore his heavy chest and its aches and phantom pain. He had a vague throbbing going on in his temple, but it was small compared to everything else he had.

Cissnei continued with a more neutral shift back to their original topic, "Well, at least Rufus knows what to expect from his late father. He isn't dumb enough to _not _know what's going on."

Another snort followed the statement.

"-On another note," she ignored it. "We're hoping this new ship will be complete _soon_; we don't have very many other intelligent means of carrying a whole company of men otherwise."

"So no rush order job?"

"Nope. This thing will be state-of-the-art," she stated, as if with pride or wonder; Zack suspected the latter. "-And no amount of bitching on Rufus' end will speed up progress: The ship, I think the _Highwind _is what its called; is the newest, biggest thing Shinra's ever manufactured. In fact, you'll probably be able to see it as we approach. Its that huge!"

Zack nodded, a tad impressed with what he's hearing. If the girl was actually _this _excited about it, maybe it was worth a look at some point. Whatever the case, Cissnei shuffled her thin shoulders and suddenly put on her more business-like mask. Zack couldn't help but _know _what's coming upon seeing it.

"I digress," She began again, opting for a rather crass change in topic. "What we need to worry about now is making a plan for staying hidden on the Freighter."

"And that is?"

"-To be as covert as possible," was the straight-laced reply. "You can use your cloak materia to hide in plain sight at least. I might as well use my status as a Turk to proclaim that I'm there for escort duty. You can hide in the cargo hold below deck."

"Were Turks even requested to be on sight? You said Rufus would have a buncha SOLDIERs around-" Zack inquired, removing his hand from its position under his jaw. "I wouldn't think he'd need a Turk all things considered. Eh, no offense."

She nodded, "None taken. And perhaps you're right: I can probably alternatively say that I'm around to look for anything suspicious too; like AVALANCHE for instance. And if that doesn't work-" She suddenly withdrew a materia from her pocket, her minute grin a wry twist of coral lips. "-I could simply use this when in doubt."

Zack blinked and then felt the beginnings of a matching smirk eat away at his expression, "That's another cloak materia, ain't it?"

"Ding ding. You win the prize," She chuckled. "Tseng may not have a lot of these things, but he has enough to make sure that those of us with riskier assignments get out of the thick okay."

Zack nodded and threw a leg over the other; propping it. He yawned next, "Are we, like, gonna stop anytime before we get there though? 'Cuz I'm kinda feeling for some grub. I ain't eating that crap Hendel packed." He wrinkled his nose and and sniffed next, his teeth showing in a brief grimace. "And uh... frankly, I think I could go for a shower; I can't remember the last time I had one."

_Gods above. When WAS the last time I had bath? Other than a mako-shower, I don't think I've had one since... _

_...Oh GROSS ME OUT. I haven't had one since before my deployment in Nibelheim! What the fuck._

Cissnei blinked rapidly and darted a glance at his greasy, nappy head, keeping her own expression schooled. It seemed like she may be coming down to the same conclusion, but she looked uncertain otherwise. After a pensive glance out her windows, a tiny stretch of skin tightened between her delicate brows.

"Yeah, we can get you one," she eventually said. "I dunno where though."

"We're not stopping at a hotel yet, right?"

"We will; albeit for one night. And its only because you _do _need a shower," she jabbed a finger at him, her expression dead serious. Zack smirked, knowing he was stinking up her ride.

She went on with, "-The parade isn't 'til tomorrow anyways; and the boat won't leave for another hour even after that. So I suppose we have some time to kill."

Zack nodded, his face content. "Cool," was his basic reply.

Cissnei hummed, "We'll check in one tonight. I need to make some calls and get some updates on AVALANCHE's whereabouts anyways, so yeah. For the moment though, I wouldn't mind some decent food myself: I'm sure we can find a bar somewhere."

"Extra seedy?" Zack suggested hopefully with a small, albeit crooked grin.

"Extra seedy," She warmly replied, feeling a little adventurous herself. "Some of the Dives in Midgar were getting a little boring anyhow."

"Hell yeah. Lets hook it up!"

Cissnei giggled and reached into her pocket; all without removing one of her hands from the stick. "Here; look up some locations on my phone. You can use the GPS on it to find one nearest us."

"...Holy smokes, are you shitting me?" Zack grabbed the device Cissnei handed him, his shock glaring. "Just how advanced _are _these things now? What the heck did I miss while I was catatonic? I mean, I thought my phone was new, but yours is like super _cool_."

"You'd be surprised," she replied loftily. "Tseng had to give you a more outdated, cheaper model for a reason. Yours is a damn brick compared to mine."

"I thought he was being stingy..."

Cissnei shook her head, "Not at all; these new phones have trackers in them. Giving you something like that would paint a bulls-eye on your back. We don't need you having anything as smart as my phone."

"All of 'em come with this kinda feature?"

"Nowadays, yeah. They're _years_ ahead of the times. At least I can turn mine off, so nobody would have to see where I've been."

"And I couldn't have one like this because-?"

That little cryptic leer again. She said smartly with a little shrug, "Take a guess."

_Tseng wouldn't want to risk it_, was his immediate answer.

Zack sighed dramatically and groaned like an impudent child, but he didn't let it weigh him down. He merely threw himself back in his seat, his smile brightening as he unlocked the thing. "Holy crap balls this is cool," he breathed, typing away like a madman on the device.

* * *

~777~

With some time, Zack managed to dig up a good spot to check out. He made the call and Cissnei handled the details; placing a special reservation on a hotel not too far from Junon. It was an hour's ride on chocobo back from the aforementioned city in question.

Being a Turk, she was able to cut a sweet deal for the rooms; and even got a V.I.P deal from it despite the hasty nature of their imminent arrival. It wasn't even Shinra-owned (which was a genuine shock), but Zack could breathe a little easier.

Those few hours later, the duo were landing somewhere Northeast of Junon; their guts a duet of growls. Cissnei admonished to Zack about keeping his face covered _and_ to remain invisible; leaving the other to complain about the redundancy of the latter act. Nonetheless, the man reluctantly complied with the promise of some hot, decent food and drink. The fresh air seemed to improve Zack's mood as well; so he almost didn't mind his slightly warm disguise despite the heat wave lazily floating around. He was used to it; all thanks to his rustic upbringing.

So Zack pretended to be a living shadow; and immediately found out upon activation of the materia just how _freaking amazing it was_. He gasped when he was able to see right through his own body, and a strange sense of disorientation overcame him when he strove to move forward. Not used to not seeing his own feet, he did make a lot of noise at first. He gritted his teeth and practiced following Cissnei, awed and mildly uneasy of his newfound invisibility.

_Its a shame I can't mask the noise I make though._

Fallen Feather Springs, the town surrounding the hotel, was pretty puny; but at least there was a ton of bars and restaurants to chose from. It was relatively underrated, being mostly a tourist town meant to serve as a half-way point between Midgar and Fort Condor. It was crowded and busy no less; seated a fair distance from the immense Zolam Spine mountain range.

After investigating some hole-in-the-wall joints, Zack had his pick of what he felt for and Cissnei did the rest. They got the grub with no trouble, Cissnei carrying the bag of their packaged goods. They quickly headed back to the Bird post haste to eat in peace. This was a necessary and temporary evil; seeing how they _were _out in public and didn't need anyone recognizing Zack by mistake:

Not that anyone could see him per se, but it wasn't like he could stay cloaked while he ate. The pull on his spiritual might was exhausting as it is.

Once inside, Zack lowered his respirator and hood and _chowed _down on his grilled sandwiches, fries, and soda like the world was going to end. Cissnei elbowed him hard in the ribs when he got some lettuce on the floor. She sternly told him to clean up his mess, and Zack retaliated with a playful flick of a leaf in her direction.

Satisfied and assured that they'll get another chance to have at dinner in a better joint latter on (with the promise of some decent mixed drinks that same night), the two returned to the streets and headed straight for the hotel. They left Zack's sword and more conspicuous gear in the chopper locked up; but the man did carry his daggers. They were easier to conceal under his coat, given he flattened them a certain way.

As for the Hotel though, the _Condor's Nest-in _being the name, it wasn't huge; but it looked damn good. Well maintained and orderly, it even had a garden out back you could walk around in.

Zack and Cissnei settled for the former being visible here, all the while keeping his hood drawn and mask on. They had to appear for their respective rooms; no way in Hell was Cissnei sharing. Zack joked about her being shy, but she only retorted in some smart-Alec manner about him and Aerith. Zack didn't say anything after that, although he did mumble under his breath and threw his arms behind his head while looking everywhere else.

They were shown to their rooms with no one the wiser to the ex-SOLDIER's identity thankfully, and no questions were asked. Zack wondered why they apparently tolerated a shifty looking individual like him in their midst, but his Turk companion only smiled that cryptic smile of hers and said nothing.

At the near top of the hotel, their rooms were only a few doors from each other on the same floor; which suited both just fine. As soon as Zack had his keys though, he _immediately _threw himself into his room and locked the door behind him without another word. He flung his pack of clothes, medical satchel, and glaives onto the bed and hurled himself into the shower with enough speed to impress even Sephiroth.

He wouldn't come out of that room for the next few hours.

* * *

~777~

When Zack finally managed to finish his shower, he couldn't have felt more _alive _than ever. He was _never _taking a shower for granted ever again.

The towels were complimentary; and were already there when he first arrived. Still, he somehow managed to filthy _every single one _of his new, bleach-white towels from his numerous dunks between bath and shower. He even used all of the soap too; and he went as far as to shave in numerous unmentionable places simply to rid himself of what he felt was a little more than just caked-on grime. Years worth of mako-soiled pain and old filth washed away in great rivulets; torrents of heat sapping the deeply-seated aches from his bones. His bath water had been _darker than his own damn hair _when it ran from him.

Having bathed so thoroughly, he felt cleansed of almost all of his sins; akin to having an enlightening, religious epiphany of epic proportions as far as he was concerned. He even managed a vivid smile as he wondered around his room stark naked while switching on the T.V. Leaving it on for background noise, he wandered back to his bathroom and picked up his mound of towels; only to pause when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He dropped the towels, and then crept a little closer to see the stranger before him.

Tired was the first word that came to him; broke-dick being the other following that.

Zack's hand wondered to his uneven, scruffy hair, amazed at the sheer amount of chaos going on with its thin layers in the front and bushy woods in the back. He cringed and floofed it as best he could, feeling self-conscious. He didn't know it looked _that _bad before; and he didn't get to see himself before meeting Hendel and getting hospitalized. He certainly didn't get to see himself at all until _now_; having no access to a mirror since his escape from Nibelheim.

The doc had obviously tried to get at the bullets in his noggin by lightly shaving away a tiny spot or two; literally just an inch or so in this one region just off-center on his forehead. The man had been considerate; he apparently didn't want to hack off so much of it. Still, Zack couldn't help but marvel at the sheer _ugly _of it though: It left more than just a hairless patch in its wake; ultimately trailing a unsightly line of scarring from it to his left brow; almost touching it but stopping just short. Like some sort of perverted, twinkling star resembling a holy cross.

_Dude. What the fuck._

His eyes took in his almost gaunt expression; food had been hard to come by in his months running from Shinra with Cloud in tow. He had to go without food some days, donating whatever he could to blond vegetable most of the time; and then it was hard to do even that. Still, apparently all those skipped meals had an effect on his cheeks by now; leaving them a tad sallower than before. Not an inch of his trademark, boyish youth and fullness was present anymore.

His mako-charged stare was borderline-vacant, dead-pan. Flat. Expectant of violence and unphased by the true scope of malice. _The famous thousand-yard stare _was the saying for it. He couldn't imagine how off he looked to Tseng and Cissnei as he is.

Zack decided to break eye-contact with his reflection, feeling uneasy at the sight. He noted the puckered holes in his shoulders where bullets had been lodged as well, but they were minuscule compared to the rest. Tame even, by all rights and purposes.

His somber gaze took in the grotesque lines and trails of the hastily healed scars on his chest, the many indentations over-lapping numerous times over the entire area. Both pectorals had been torn at some point; and he knew his ribs had been crushed from the reverberations of the many rounds fired at him. Hendel had indeed healed him of that at least, although whenever he breathed too deeply he couldn't help that minute wince from time-to-time. Did the doc say anything about nerve damage? Zack distinctly recalled tuning him out after a certain point.

Maybe he shouldn't tune out doctors anymore. At least the last one he talked to had been _nice _for a change. He wasn't a miracle-worker, but he was pretty damn near close seeing what he did though. Hell, Hendel even had the good graces to leave as much of Zack's sexy _do _as undisturbed as possible!

The real shiner was that _ohmygod whatthefuckisthat _on his left pectoral, almost rightly centered on and around his heart. When he initially saw it, he'd still been mildly doped up as Hell and took it in stride; figuring it'll heal enough to not look how it does now. He'd even joked about it, not noticing how crass the comment really was. Sadly, he'd been mistaken, and this so-said spot was a horrendous, colored-bloom of crossing lines of many gradients ranging from pink to purple. His hand wandered over it, but it could only cover so much.

He breathed, trying to reign in on his quickening pulse. His thoughts wondered over to Aerith suddenly, and he wondered what she'd think of him if and when he was allowed to speak to her as _himself _at some point. His life-style had obviously frightened her every day; he couldn't count how many times she asked if he could simply quit. He certainly couldn't forget her crest-fallen expression every time he'd reply in the negative, without fail.

_Why would she be hung up over you? You're a lost cause, buddy. Its bad enough you look like something a dog chewed up, swallowed, and puked up._

_...Ugh. Shut up._

Suddenly, a knock at his door jarred him out of his rueful reverie, and he immediately went to his bed to look for some decently relaxed wear. Sifting through his clothes, he found some sweats and the navy hoodie Tseng gave him. Keeping in character was principle; so he drew the hood all the way and carefully made it to his door, only cracking it open enough for a single eye to peer through.

Cissnei was there, dressed casually and smiling gently, her hands politely inter-locked in front of her. She wore an over-large white pajama shirt that fell low enough to almost pass her waist; with the words "Sleep, Coffee, Sparkle, and Repeat" emblazoned on it. She had some shorts on; although it reached down until it passed her knees, decorated with running chocobos in random spots. It almost passed as pants at that.

On a side note, is he allowed to say how cute she looked? Because honestly, it _was_ the truth.

"Hey," she greeted. "Can I come in for a sec?"

Feeling surprisingly douchey, he said with a little snide smirk, "What's the password?"

"Really? Don't do this..."

"C'mon. Humor me. What's the password?"

She frowned at him, her little nose wrinkling in kitten-like fashion. She huffed next, her amber eyes exasperated.

"...Tacos."

He raised a chastising finger in front of her nose, "Ah-ah-ah. What kind?"

"Steak."

"...God dammit."

Honor-bound to oblige, he let in the girl and shut the door with a sigh. "How'd ya figure it out so damn quick?" He asked, smirking somewhat.

Cissnei giggled and said, "You're too easy. Try picking a different word next time."

"Oh, _I'm _the easy one?" He harrumphed, folding his arms. He grinned crookedly, his teeth flashing. At least he still had his dashing smile, all things considered. "You're the one knocking on my door, obliging me all day and shit," he joked.

The girl in the meantime wandered around his room and proceeded to note the mess he already made, her tiny smile growing some. "Didn't waste any time making it yours I see," she began conversationally. "Its like a typhoon came barreling through here."

Zack shrugged, his smile faltering, "Eh. At least I'm not the one cleaning it."

"You're such a dick."

He playfully blew a rasberry at her in retort.

Cissnei continued to look around without much interest for a few more seconds, and then turned to him and cut right to the point. "I just wanted to know if you were still up for a visit to a bar near here; I've been looking it up. Its called _Devil's Dive _and I hear its a good place for some of the best drinks around here. Its also never crowded, so you can relax some."

"Ya already looked dressed for bed though. Didn't figure ya in the _mood_-" He deliberately teased. He was only blowing smoke though; teasing girls in uniform had always been an old and Favorited pass-time years back. Sometimes, the habit came up, but he never meant it.

_Not since Aerith._

Cissnei jerked a shoulder, shrugging as well, "I dunno. You seemed pretty tired, but I just wanted to know if you're up for dinner anyways."

He thought about it; maybe getting out of here for another hour was a novel idea. Every-time he was left alone with his own thoughts it seemed to sour and curdle his gut like overly micro-waved milk.

Seeing his pensive expression, she couldn't help but add with a teasing lilt, "Its an an all-nighter you know; stays that way 'til dawn~"

Zack's shoulders dipped, his arms losing their folded position. One hand instead migrated to the back of his head, and he ambled about as he contemplated it. "I won't hafta use cloak, right?"

Cissnei's smile grew a little warmer, "You won't have to. It be a good idea to keep the hoodie though."

Zack relented, feeling his tired lips lift. "Go get ready then," he said. "I could do with a little picker-upper."

The Turk girl nodded and went to leave, but stopped just as she went to pass him. She suddenly shot Zack a _hard _look, her brows scrunching again.

Curious, the ex-SOLDIER asked "What's up?" and blinked.

Cissnei had her turn to cross her arms, but she had one hand go to her chin as she gave the taller individual the full-weight of her scrutiny. Suddenly she walked around him, and then said, "You can do with a little modest trim, you know. Your hair's uneven, both in the back and front."

Zack almost shut down hearing that; the man prided himself in his untamed _mane_. Still, on the surface he played it off. "Oh? And I suppose _you're _gonna do the cuttin'?"

"I didn't say 'cut'. But now that you mention it..." She pondered aloud.

Zack recalled his grizzled appearance from earlier and weighed the idea, feeling rather reluctant. He didn't dismiss the idea out-right; seeing how he actually briefly considered getting a trim before Nibelheim.

_But that was years ago, man. Ya might as well get one now._

"I don't hear a 'no'," entreated the girl.

Zack scratched his noggin again, knowing he was being a little too forgiving tonight. He kinda loved his wild, unkempt look; it was _trademark _for crying out loud. However, he knew the less he looked... himself, the better.

_Throw away everything you know. You're not supposed to be you anymore, you freaking wuss._

He acquiesced, albeit with a great weight that suddenly dragged his head and shoulders down. He slouched, feeling mildly put off with the idea.

"...Fine. Do it fast, and _then _we go," he said lowly.

His morose reply wasn't unnoticed, but still the girl nodded and left his room, going to find some decent shears.

* * *

~777~

Some moments later, Zack was seated in the disaster zone that was his bathroom, sitting on a kitchen chair he borrowed from the other room. With Cissnei behind him, it was kinda cramped, but he wasn't someone whose bothered by claustrophobia. Not unless he was in Hojo's tank anyway.

The girl's adept, soft little hands were weaving through his drying, tangled locks, her mouth pursed despite Zack not seeing it. She undid the knots, and then combed them out mechanically and with methodical care. To say the least, it felt _nice_, and it calmed his frayed nerves in some part.

"You know, you don't have to do this," she told him then, sensing his dysphoria despite his trying to conceal it. "I mean, you _do _have your materia and-"

"Just do it," he snapped. "It ain't gonna grow back evenly anyways."

Cissnei frowned at him, knowing that wasn't the true reason for this. She only wanted to _trim _it; not cut almost all of it off. "You sure?" was her next query; knowing that no amount of talking at this point was going to make him change his mind. She merely said this out of courtesy at this point, feeling a little dispirited by his languishing will.

When he nodded, the girl let out a piteous puff of air herself; ruffling some of the scraggly hairs sticking up. Goose-flesh pimpled on his neck; the man just now realizing that he hadn't had anyone stand willingly in his personal space since... Well, he could say Cloud, but he was no more lively than a rag-doll. On a more intimate and lovely note, Aerith was his last thought- details aside.

"Okay then," she breathed. "Can't say that I haven't tried."

He didn't reply; merely remained idle, listless in his posture.

Cissnei gingerly wove her hands through his coal-colored locks, a little regretful of suggesting the idea. Still, she knew Zack wouldn't be content otherwise; and she knew his words contained some merit of truth within them. She picked up the scissors next; picking and choosing an area to begin.

And so she began, saying nothing more on the matter. Zack had told her only a moment before that he wanted most of his hair cut to a point where it resembled his older look; before Angeal died. The scruffy look was nice and all, but he wanted it a little _closer_ this time around. Towards the front though, he asked Cissnei to leave his bangs be in some part. She still had to trim them down a tad, but not much. That one strand he always had was now lost amidst the rest of his hair; no longer the rebellious little hell-raiser it once was.

To try and break the monotonous and oppressing silence, Cissnei tried to lift the veil by suggesting, "You know, I haven't yet told you my _name _before-"

That seemed to stir him out of his funk. He straightened and inclined his head; causing the girl to cut more than expected. She flinched when a hank fell, but you can't say Zack didn't want that much severed anyways.

"Ya know, you're right," he said, his tone already several degrees lighter. He sounded _hopeful_ as he asked, "I don't suppose you could tell me, could you?"

Cissnei's smile returned, her fingers dancing and weaving. Zack forcibly wondered how she got as good as she did. _Did she do all of the Turks hair? _He wondered. _Why was that even a thought anyways?_

"How about this," she loftily replied. "You could, I dunno... _Guess _what my name is-?"

"_Really_ dude? REALLY?" He sounded immediately annoyed.

Cissnei was grinning full-on at this point, and Zack _knew _he could feel its shiny beams hitting the back of his head; blinding in its unseen luster. "Come on. _Humor me_," she teased, borrowing his words from earlier.

"Ugghhhhh. Man. I shouldn't have asked."

The Turk hummed along to her own merry tune, merely proceeding with her work unperturbed.

"Okay then. Will ya tell me if I'm gettin' warmer?"

Cissnei said nothing, so Zack decided that he was on his own for this one. He did however weigh his own name, and what Hendel told him in his letter (he got a lighter and burnt it after they landed in this town). Zack remembered the words easily, and how it seems a Turk is given this name depending on what his area-of-expertise is. He suddenly wondered what Tseng's real name was on that note.

_Gonna hafta badger him about it later too_, he inwardly resolved.

"Okay then," he said, effectively distracted from his former melancholy. "I'm gonna say it has something to do with your combat prowess."

"Hmm. How would you know its not anything I do socially?" She was angling at something; fishing perhaps.

Zack's grin was genuine this time, "Easy: You guys aren't social to begin with. Ya'll stay in your little workaholic circle enough as it is."

Cissnei lightly tugged on another hank, this time deliberately. Zack grunted in protest. "You don't know that," she affirmed with a laugh in her tone. "Reno and Rude's always out looking for a night on the town when they're not busy. We are _people _you know. You should see what the others do in their off-time."

Zack had his turn to hum, although his was deeper and shorter in duration. He was already starting to pick this trait up from her.

"M'kay. You say that, but I couldn't help noticing you guys having a tendency to take your jobs more seriously than others. More so than any other divisions." He shrugged, "I mean, everyone who joins Shinra and takes on jobs like Army or SOLDIER or Turks are exposed to life-threatening situations. We're treated more like _tools _than people at that point; but its almost like you guys don't seem to _mind _it. But, that's besides the point."

Cissnei's smile dulled without him seeing it, but she went on in her cutting as Zack continued. She wondered where he was going with this.

He mused aloud, "Hendel was nice enough to give me a hint when he unofficially 'initiated' me. There's that, and some years ago, I met a couple of your other Turk buddies. One of 'em had a weird name; and it wasn't like, a normal name at all. Not remotely."

Cissnei kept on snipping, growing more confused by the second.

"So here I am, thinking your name is something like a weapon or situation you've earned or endured before getting your uniform. Maybe. I thought I remember reading how a name is given to one trained in some sort of tool-related specialization in most cases. Am I wrong?"

She ignored him pointedly this time, moving up his scalp as she cut closer and closer still. She briefly went to the side of him, trimming the area around his ears some. Zack's luridly bright eyes ensnared her once though, his gaze almost penetrating. She didn't pause to stare back, merely ignoring his intensive scrutiny.

"Its not _really_ the name of your weapon though, is it?" was his guess.

That's when she stopped, her cinnamon gaze suddenly firmer.

Zack let out a breath, belatedly realizing that he got it right upon seeing her wary and feighnly interested expression. He lifted a leg and set it over the other, resting an arm on it. "So, which is it really?'" he pressed. "Shuriken, or Rekka? I mean, really? Is it really that?"

Cissnei resumed her trimming, her tune long-since stopped. She was still smiling, which creeped him out a little. "Wow. You're actually a lot quicker than your superiors ever gave you credit for," she admitted, faintly impressed by his answer. "I'm actually pretty shocked you guessed it on the first go too. I didn't think I was obvious..."

Zack pursed his lips, the girl migrating to his right side. "You're not. It just so happens that I had some good hints tipping me off: My name's 'Glaive' as an example, according to Hendel. It's all I got, but when he said somethin' like "Turks receiving a name based on training" or something, it kinda narrowed it down. And you're pretty proficient with that pinwheel of yours so- OW!"

She pulled hard enough to yank his head down several notches, her tone gentle but oddly _firm _when she said, "Speak nothing of this to _anyone_. It never leaves this room. Got it? Not even the other Turks call me that."

"Seriously! What is with girls and the hitting and pulling-?" He complained. When she did it again, he then stuttered out, "Okay, okay! T-then, why tell me your name if its so freakin' secret anyhow-?"

Cissnei released him and folded her arms, stepping away from him briefly, "I didn't tell you- you _guessed _it, Zack. I wasn't even going to give you a _hint_."

"Oh."

At his almost down-trodden expression, she added with gentler tone, "Also, I'd like to think you're my friend; not just my ally. Tseng even told you as much, I presume?" When he faintly nodded as if shocked by her open admittance of their camaraderie, she went on, "Well then, I'd think I can trust you enough to know it. Other than that, it looks like you would've figured it sooner or later anyways."

She tilted her head a smidge and smiled again, "You know, I never had you pegged as a quick one. Angeal always used to raise a ruckus about how dense you could be."

Zack jolted and exaggeratedly threw a finger into his chest, gesticulating wildly. "Aw come _on_! Really? I'm not exactly _thick _ya know!"

She casually shrugged it off, "Apparently not, but even so-"

"Gah. I swear Angeal gets off on watching his pupils squirm."

The Turk didn't say anything beyond that, only returning to her previous position behind the man's back and resuming her task. Zack complacently obliged it, saying nothing and relaxing some as her fingers wove through his hair.

"So then," he eventually started again, his tone wavering. "Besides telling me 'cuz I'm a friend, why'd ya want to tell me your name even if you wouldn't go as far as a hint? I wouldn't think you'd wanna say at all."

Cissnei hummed thoughtfully at this, her lips twisting upwards in a that little cryptic leer she usually favored. "Because," she said. "-Teasing you is a lot of fun. I'll already told you you make it easy. Angeal apparently thought so too."

"Ugh. _Whyyyy..._" He bemoaned.

"-And here I am, wondering how many other people gave you flak about it throughout your years in Shinra," she went on conversationally.

When Zack only reiterated his previous answer, the girl could only giggle and finished the last touches to her project. She sniped the last hanks, running her hands through his hair to find any more scraggy remnants. Zack did however feel one her finger-tips pause on a spot in the crown on his cranium, hearing a low "What is-?" before she abruptly withdrew.

He turned his head, stumped. "Cissnei?"

Her expression was dreadfully blank. She shook her head and suddenly smiled, although it was false. "You're done," she said. "I hope its not _too _short for your liking."

He raised a brow at her, wondering what in the Hell was bothering her. Zack decided to ask her later; he wasn't in the mood to deal anymore crap right now. Instead, he rose steadily to his feet and checked his reflection, blinking rapidly a couple of times as he weighed the look.

In a way, the cut certainly helped him look a little younger; and it seemed Cissnei's banter may have stripped some the baggage clinging to him as well. He pulled at his bangs, ruffling them until they teasingly floated around his eyes and he brushed them aside. They were shorter too, although not by much. He turned his head as much as could to try and see his profile, and was a little shocked to see that the girl had cut all the way up until it stopped at his neck. The length in the back matched Cloud's somewhat, although a _tad _longer.

He nodded, approving of the old, albeit tamer look. Not a bad job overall.

Cissnei cleaned up his hair, all the while he inspected himself. Once she finished, she then asked, "You still up for drinks? I wouldn't mind a decent margarita myself."

He grinned, suddenly feeling lighter than he did earlier that hour. "Let's get goin'," was his amiable reply.

She smiled again, and turned to leave so she could get into something more decent. Just before she could reach his door however, Zack stopped her with a casual "Hey". She hummed, her gaze curious as she turned around.

"Ya know," he said with another mild scratch at the back of his head; a tic of his that usually betrayed his embarrassment. "I think I like 'Cissnei' better," he wavered some, his eyes soft. He nodded next, "Yeah. 'Cissnei's' best. I don't think its really okay to be calling a person a weapon anyways, even if they were raised inside Shinra to be tools. You're someone with a real identity, sure, but it isn't something _they _make of you. Its what you make of yourself that matters more. 'Sides, you said yourself the other Turks don't bother with the other name, so Cissnei's who you are, right?"

Suddenly, Zack was frowning at his words, folding his arms again. "I'm probably not wording it right, but I hope you're gettin' what I'm saying. I mean, Hell, all I've been doin' all night is blabbering on." He shook his head and looked up again, his gaze sincere. "I may be Glaive now, or Garm... But I'm always gonna know myself as Zack _fucking _Fair. It may be a name I was born with, but its a name I've sculpted into shape; one I've carved meaning into. And one day soon, I'm gonna be allowed to scream it to the world without getting shot at!"

When he laughed, it was an almost bitter noise, but it contained equal parts relief and humor too; draining his tension out of him in waves. He cackled like a jackal, like how Cissnei always saw, and then she too was smiling with him. Eventually, she joined in the laugh over all, her coppery hair waving and bouncing on her shoulders too.

When they finally stopped, the girl couldn't help her demure smile and relaxed posture, suddenly feeling more herself than she'd been in a long time. She then said, "Well, if that's the case, make sure you don't get yourself killed along the way."

"I'll keep that in mind," He grinned in answer, his azure eyes neon-bright. "And you'll always be Cissnei to me. I mean, Rekka is... _kinda _cute? I guess?" He shook his head again. "But ya know? Cissnei's the name of the person who helped save my life. That's the person I call my friend; not some weaponized tool for Shinra to throw aside."

The girl suddenly sucked in a sharp breath- an uncharacteristic and surprising display of her usually well-concealed embarrassment. Her eyes even darted to the floor in passing, as if unable to look the ex-SOLDIER in the eye.

She turned on the ball of her heel and flicked her head next, eager to press on. "I'm gonna go put on something more decent. I wanna actually get there before dawn you know. We don't have all night."

Zack pasted on that shit-eating smirk, knowing he'd gotten her all flustered. In all of his time knowing her, he'd never actually succeeded until now; and it was strangely satisfying feeling. He chuckled, watching the girl leave his room to go get ready.

It sure felt good to be alive, knowing he actually had a friend to laugh with. Maybe he could trust her after all.

* * *

~777~

...

That next morning, the duo were up a little past dawn, shaking off the parched throats and steeling themselves for the official start of their first mission together.

After room service brought breakfast, the two checked out of the _Condor's Nest-in_ and dragged their things back to the Bird; Zack feeling rather hyped for today. His night at the bar had certainly alleviated him of his woes; with Cissnei's wry words and warm personality being the cherry on top. They didn't drink too much then; just enough to laugh it up and return to their rooms to wear off the buzz. Zack hadn't been permitted to drink much due to his 'condition'; and its a word that's already wearing on him _fast_. He'd still been walking in a straight line for crying out loud.

Nonetheless, Zack pasted on his game face, readying himself for the beginnings of his true assignment in Junon. Still, this 'game face' didn't last past an hour, whereas he proceeded to be a bored _nuisance_. And by bored, it was 'stealing the girl's phone and toying around with both it and his own' kinda deal. He sent crack-pot messages to Tseng and kept the phone out of Cissnei's limited reach; especially since she had to focus on driving.

When that wasn't enough, he began asking numerous questions about how to drive a helicopter, and if she'll teach him. Cissnei didn't tolerate his shit though; she deliberately jerked the Bird left and right and in great swooping motions to 'encourage' Zack to put his belt back on as well as to 'teach' him.

Cackling in his usual winsome way, the ex-SOLDIER retaliated with a threat to puke on her floor and she with a snappish retort to have Hendel castrate him next time he went in to see the doc. Zack only grinned at this and made stroking motions around said nether-regions to deliberately goad her into another argument. Eventually, the two came to an uneasy compromise and proceeded to enter the Junon area in good-natured silence.

After the ride, Zack belatedly noted that he hadn't felt _that _good in Goddess knows how long. Cissnei's leisurely company had certainly helped the man achieve a sense of normality that kept him smiling for the rest of the day. Seeing how said normalcy wasn't achievable in his current situation, he took what he could get with a grain of salt. This kind of interaction between them was something Zack had secretly longed to see too; when the girl could be _herself _and not a Turk. He treasured it, and hoped there'll be a time when they could do this without the secrecy.

Or at least, he _hoped _this could happen; given if this whole thing pans out.

Sadly, the fun had to end, brief as it was; especially since the imposing form of the Junon Cannon came within view. Zack leaned against the door and peered out, straining to catch sight of the so-called _Highwind _in all of its spectral glory. Needless to say, he didn't have to look very hard when he saw an _enormous_, hulking mass of polished steel glinting like a super nova in the direct sun. From their distance, the thing was a almost a speck, but was no less visible despite the distance. He whistled appreciatively.

"Great friggle fracking _fuck_. Its huge!" He exclaimed.

"Told ya," Cissnei said playfully.

Once they arrived (safely) on an hidden landing pad on the outskirts of Junon's Harbor town, Cissnei compiled a quick text to have someone pick up the chopper and relayed their position to Tseng. Zack took a much-needed leak behind some rocks while she did so. Leaving the ride where it was, Cissnei turned to Zack when he finished and told him to activate the cloak materia and walk behind her; as in step-for-step to aid in masking his boot prints.

"Hopefully, they'll just think I have really big feet if we're walking where there's dirt. Lets just hope they don't look twice," She said. "After we get to the paved areas though, you won't have to do it anymore. I need you to 'stay in my shadow' though; at _all _times," was her words.

She showed him the hand motions for these words too; a sign that Zack should remember the signals for future reference. It was a twist of her fingers behind her back; mostly of her index and middle fingers crossing but in a scissoring motion.

Loyally, he stayed quiet as he followed the tiny girl towards the large military town that loomed over the Harbor Residence. One of his hands stayed glued onto the hilt of his hybrid long-sword; a weapon he planned on naming when he felt creative enough. He hoped to keep the thing from jingling too much; and it kinda helped somewhat. The glaives weren't a problem thankfully; the sheathes containing them muffled them completely.

_Wutains sure do know how to make their steel and leathers. They at least beat Shinra in that._

After the fairly extensive walk, the two managed to enter Junon with somehow no trouble. They took the elevator up to the main area; Cissnei presenting her badge to the guards protecting it. They never noticed another set of boots appearing behind her; nor did they suspect a gigantic six-foot-four-inch ex-SOLDIER armed to the teeth shadowing the lonesome Turk. Once inside the shaft, Cissnei flipped the switch and somehow managed to find Zack's arm so to stabilize him.

"You really suck at this," she hissed suddenly, her delicate fingers squeezing pointedly on his deltoid. "I swear to all of Creation, I'm shocked that those guards didn't hear you!"

Zack huffed, feeling horribly winded after such a long venture. He absolutely loathed his weakened state right now. "Well _sorry_," he muttered bitterly, honestly frustrated with himself and his physical infirmities. _So much for that invincible smile_, he wondered. "F.Y.I: I'm _still _trying to get used to this."

"Don't apologize to me; apologize to Tseng if someone managed to get sight of you."

Zack blew like a winded chocobo, ignoring the jab. Who the fuck would see him anyway? Minus the materia, even his disguise, respirator, and new identity was cover enough.

_Ah well. Can't be helped._

Once the elevator stopped, they ended up inside one of the Shinra barracks; where a vast majority of Army were shuffling too and fro in hurried squads of no less than three at any one time. Zack clenched his jaw, his musculature tensed and coiled. Cissnei herself let go of Zack's arm and strode forward, ignoring the looks she was passed on occasion. She made more gestures behind her back though; one being a crude version of _Stay frosty _and _Shadow me_.

Zack stayed uncomfortably close behind her; like within inches of her petite form. He was practically breathing on her neck; and frankly, he was glad Cissnei tolerated it. Being this close meant nobody should accidentally bump into him; and people had a tendency to give the Turks a wide berth. Cissnei would also know if Zack stopped for some reason.

As they silently padded along, Zack couldn't help this one profound sensation nagging at his nerves. He thought it was the _ugly slithering coil of nope _in his gut again; until he felt this odd sensation bloom forth in his brain instead, pulling him some-fucking-where. It almost felt like a buzzing; more or less kinda like that needling sensation one gets from numbness of the extremities. It was hella annoying; making the man flutter his lids and place a hand on his head as it thrummed through his skull like some resonance chamber. His pulse quickened next, his mind coiling in on itself.

The problem with it was that it seemed centered around this one focal point in his noggin after a minute; almost like a compass pointing North. He started to sidle away from Cissnei then, and being as close as he was to the Turk, she'd detected his unease and paused when he did. They hadn't gotten very far into the barracks before Zack saw something that immediately paralyzed him in rigid shock; the buzzing suddenly devolving into a high-pitched ringing noise that shot pain through his head like bullets.

_There._

The incessant humming had vanished overall, leaving only the pronounced ringing. He even somehow managed to immediately _forget _about the anomaly despite its constant presence. Zack didn't notice its vice on his sense of self _at all_.

"Za- Erm," Cissnei quickly caught herself, almost fumbling over the identity shift.

It jerked Zack out of his stupor at least; although not by much. The ringing stopped too upon her verbalized error.

"Huh-?"

"What's wrong?" she whispered with imminent concern, mashing her lips and feeling kinda silly for talking to what appeared to be thin air. She couldn't see his pallored expression, but she could somehow sense his distress.

_"Cloud," _was the breathless reply, Zack's pupils shrinking to unseen pinpricks.

The girl smacked her lips, and quickly moved to a corner while shoving Zack along. They peered around said corner, looking down the hall they were about to cross.

Sure enough, Zack's observation stood true:

There he was, the fellow country boy pretty much shuffling around in as much a shifty manner as Zack and Cissnei were. He moved across the halls after every squad rushed on by; hoping to surreptitiously remain hidden. Despite his gravity-defying, vividly blonde, cow-licked hair and broad-shouldered appearance, Cloud moved with the grace of prowling jungle cat while remaining out of sight in large part. Dressed as he was, any decent Shinra employee would think he was SOLDIER, so he didn't quite stick out as much as one thought in a place like this.

Zack couldn't help that erratic drum-beat of his heart upon seeing his friend out in the open; he hadn't been prepared to see his old pal yet so soon. He was so freaking _elated_ to see the smaller boy he almost burst forth from his cover right then; and with the sole intention of ruffling his spikes so much Cloud could never hope to flatten them again. Zack's quads coiled for the motion, but he suddenly remembered where they were and rigidly reminded himself to stay put. Other than that, his identity as Garm was still place; so it wasn't like he could do anything about his frantic urge to tackle him.

Especially since Cissnei was still present.

As if suddenly sensing something amiss, Cloud suddenly held his breath and lowered into a crouch behind a vending machine, his eyes jagged glass shards cutting through the thick masses pouring past him. Wary as a faun, he curled his lip and bared his teeth subtly; his glare every bit as sharp as polished volcanic glass. His crystalline eyes fluttered; prompting Zack to wonder if the guy was shouldering a migraine. Despite this, Cloud darted a glance at their hiding spot once; but he didn't seem to notice the Turk girl ducking out of sight.

"You think he saw me?" Cissnei mumbled lowly to her larger partner, having bumped right into his chest.

Zack shook his head, but then remembered the girl couldn't see him and whispered, "No" in response. He felt his brows notch together as he contemplated the slightly smaller man near them, seeing just how strangely different Cloud _felt _to him, even from their distance of some modest few meters. Zack observed the suspicious movements he made; and couldn't help his consternation the more he observed. He couldn't quite put his finger on it; but something felt _wrong_.

A misplaced sensation, like his center of self was off-balance or something. His head rung again briefly, but Zack shook it off. He chalked that up to his headache; something he blamed last night's alcohol and this morning's medication for.

_His eyes. They seem... off_, Zack realized as he observed the man. _They look nothing like the meek little dude I knew. He's just... I dunno. Different._

_Its like I'm looking at someone else._

Cloud suddenly let out a huff in relief when he figured no one saw him; but he maintained his avid vigil as he searched the halls for any sign of what may have spooked him. Unbeknownst to Zack however, Cloud was having a rather interesting, albeit very shitty day; and was slightly off his game.

Despite this, the guy managed to creep along to the locker rooms just down the blue and gray-painted hall; undetected. He vanished into it for a moment, and then stumbled back out dressed as infantry.

_Dressed as he was when we first met, _was Zack's thought.

If Zack hadn't known what to look for, he would've figured this the appearance of just some random Army grunt late for roll call. However, Cloud carried himself a little too carefully for that; his gait proud and deliberate. He no longer 'shuffled' around like the newb he once was; faltering and stuttering and stopping to hesitate.

The younger man shouldered a 'borrowed' rifle, but no Buster sword in sight; he must've done something with it prior to his coming here. He hadn't come to the barracks wearing it. Zack pondered where it was, but the possibility that someone may be holding onto it for him wasn't eliminated; but he couldn't really think of anyone other than himself or Cloud capable of moving it.

Tangents aside, Cloud moved the Security helmet down some; deliberately pulling the tinted visor until it covered his glowing mako eyes. The spiky-haired wonder then waited for another team of three to pass before loping into a greased, brusque trot behind them; turning the squad of three into four without their notice.

Nobody would actually suspect a sheep to be dressed in a wolf's skin; and Zack was left mildly impressed and relieved when no one raised an alarm. _Maybe its the vice versa_, was the ex-SOLDIER's thought. _Maybe he's the wolf, and they're the sheep._

One thing was for damn sure; Cloud was no longer that soft, weak little foot soldier from the sticks. He looked down-right dangerous to even approach.

On the side, Zack still couldn't kick that _misplaced _feeling.

"Now what do we do?" He asked his partner. "Should we follow him?"

Cissnei didn't hesitate to nod, much to Zack's inner glee. She must've seen something in him that rubbed her the wrong way if her expression was anything to go by. "He'll likely lead us to Aerith," was her reasoned response. "If we stay close, we'll probably find the rest of AVALANCHE as well. I wager he's probably trying to get on board the boat too."

_Hell yeah! Mission time!_

The duo slipped into the chaos of the rushing frenzy of Shinra Army; many from almost all divisions. Thanks to Rufus' coronation having everyone wound up in a worked-up tizzy, their infiltration went unnoticed. Even Turks like Rude could be seen upon slipping outside; among many of the Security department and the scant (albeit rare) SOLDIER on the side-lines. There were vast crowds of people and screaming market vendors everywhere; turning the usually wide streets into a over-sized cluster-fucked rally of epic proportions.

And speaking of which; the parade was a deliberately gaudy show, for reasons Zack didn't understand nor care to know: There was a maelstrom of banners, confetti, crowds, and cameras too; coloring the streets in a swirling tempest of gold, red, and orange. The roaring cacophony of the adulation and resonating boom of the fanfare could easily cover Zack; he knew no one would notice his presence even if he undid the cloaking now.

That said, he did the one thing he knew he wasn't supposed to do right now, but knew he needed his imposing size to use to his advantage: He actually _did _undo the invisibility and tightly clasped Cissnei's wrist, determined not to lose her and Cloud in the endless sea of writhing bodies.

"Za- I mean, Garm. I didn't say you could-" Cissnei started.

Zack ignored her, his eyes boring relentlessly into the back of his friend's head. There was no way in Hell he was gonna lose his little buddy _now_.

She couldn't pull away; Zack was entirely still too strong to resist even with less than a third of his super-human strength clutching at her extremity. Cissnei merely followed helplessly along with a resigned huff, knowing the deadly SOLDIER focus was zeroed in on the fleeing Cloud. Zack was every bit as obdurate and ceaseless as a horde of guard hounds once he had a target to chase.

A wolf with a quarry in sight; his scarred muzzle frothing at the corners in riled excitement of the hunt: That's how the girl suddenly described Zack as they went along.

The people around them were utterly oblivious despite their plain visibility. Rufus' parade merely masked their pursuit, up until they saw Cloud slide into the marching lines behind the president's slowly creeping car. Zack harrumphed and shadowed the company doggedly, his teeth bared underneath his respirator. Cissnei almost thought she could hear a animistic _snarl _of frustration edge his suddenly deeper timber.

Taking to the back streets to stay out of camera view, the duo pursued the concealed AVALANCHE member, Zack all the while hanging onto the girl's slight limb. They crept along and watched as the half-dozen platoons broke up; the vast majority of the Shinra grunt making their way back to their posts while others came to rest in front of another lift near the center of town.

These guys stopped in front of Rufus Shinra himself; Heidegger standing along-side him. Zack spied Cloud's incrementally larger frame and relaxed poise near the back of the line; watching the guy disinterestedly scratch under his helmet to get at this persistent itch building on his spiky scalp. He had the audacity to _yawn_, like the whole parade had been nothing but a snooze.

Granted, Zack felt the same way. This whole thing had been awful and _loud_. He already felt tired from the day's events.

Zack released Cissnei's wrist and watched as the President and the head of Public Safety exchange heated words, but the latter was suddenly incensed by whatever the former arrogantly pointed out. Heidegger's bushy mane of a beard almost seemed to bristle in a hilarious display; the man's face turning into a distinctive puce color. Rufus casually dismissed him and did his trademark hair-flip; something Zack secretly couldn't help thinking girly. Even the women he knew didn't do that _that _much.

Rufus casually strode into the lift next; the behemoth mass of metal taking him down to the docking area. The instant it was gone, Heidegger flew into one of his little rages and sucker-punched the poor bastard nearest him; his heavy form shuddering with barely contained frustration.

"Ugh. Nice to know his temper hasn't improved," Zack grunted.

"No kidding," Cissnei retorted with a roll of her eyes. "Its a shock he's still has his job."

"How'd he end up being your boss again? I coulda swore you guys had somebody more sensible runnin' ya," He scratched at his noggin as he dug up the memories; even if the details were scant.

"That's a story for another time," she sighed, weighing the craziness of the last several years. "Trust me; you'll be sitting through it for hours."

"On that note, I don't think I wanna know," Zack waved off. He never really had the patience to sit through an explanation; let alone elaborate stories. Maybe one of these days he'd ask, but not soon enough.

"Although," he pondered aloud. "I thought Tseng was your boss? Not some glorified secretary." Cissnei snorted loudly at this; and Zack couldn't help his brief grin at that. "Why d'ya hafta listen to this nut-job when Tseng's your dude anyhow? Is this part of you story too?" He proceeded with.

Cissnei nodded, "Its part of the same story too, but yes."

"Ugh."

Thankfully, the crowd broke up and the scattered groups of foot soldiers left overall. Cloud had apparently started making his way elsewhere; so Zack and Cissnei stuck close to his shadow by concealing themselves with cloak and hanging onto the other's wrist to keep from losing each other. The stayed fairly close to the guy, never noticing the various other members of AVALANCHE converging on the location.

They got to the docks, and sure enough Cloud was ducking away in a mass of cargo waiting to hulled on board. He seemed to be searching for something; but whatever it was didn't appear to be present. Cloud grew more agitated as he rummaged around, using his _obscenely powerful grip _to pry some cargo boxes open despite them being nailed together. When he didn't find what he was looking for, he used his damn fist (on his left gauntlet-covered hand though) to beat the nails back in place, _with freaking ease!_

_Like, what the fuck? How strong is he now-?_

Zack watched in flabber-gasted shock as Cloud easily rifled through the crates, his movements growing more frantic with each one. Eventually, the blond managed to find what he was looking for: The Buster Sword no less, lying amidst a stack of steel-based items like scrap iron, girders, and over-large bolts waiting to be shipped. He hefted the man-sized blade with an incredible sense of balance and familiarity, holding it like it was a part of him. Zack's bowels bloomed in warmth and pride, knowing he made the right choice that day in the wastes.

He didn't regret giving it to him. Not at all.

He put it back, and then shut the crate with another punch to the corners to wedge the nails in again. He apparently intended on smuggling it in; knowing the blade was a little too distinctive otherwise. It was, in hind-sight, a pretty smart move.

Zack watched in mute appreciation as Cloud easily hefted the weighty object and shoved it into a cluster of others just like it in the waiting vessel. After safely stowing it away, he began to rummage through the rest of the freight as if to confirm something; but Zack had no idea of what. _Maybe to look for AVALANCHE'S stuff? _was his guess.

Just then, a soft, mellow croon beckoned the blond over to an undisturbed stack of metal containers; the sound resembling a stray, mewing tom-cat. Cloud strode over with a tight grip on his rifle, but seemed to relax when this _thing _crept out from the darkest corner of the docks. Zack could only gape as he took in the sight, wondering where in the bloody Hell this thing came from.

It _looked_ like an enormous cat; but Zack knew that wasn't the case: It had a deep crimson coat and mohawk trailing from the top of its box-shaped head to between its broad shoulder blades. Tattooed on its front and hind leg on the left side; its foreleg was labelled '13' in numerals. Its tail was on _freaking fire_, and it- _he_?- didn't seem to notice. It was missing an eye too, with a head-dress and feathers danging from his large skull.

That's when it began _talking_.

"Cloud," it greeted, the distinct voice male in nature. He spoke formally, mild-mannered in his carefully chosen words. "I need to ask something of you. As degrading as it is, I need to be concealed in a box in order to make the trip. Could you-"

"On it."

Cloud minced no words; already he was finding a vessel large enough to contain the quadrupedal creature and removing its contents. He threw the miscellaneous stuff into the churning sea, throwing the crate into the boat next. The cat-thing loped easily alongside him, the two obviously familiar with the other. It hopped inside next, Cloud gently shutting the container and pushing it next to the crate with the Buster sword hidden within it.

"What... the-?" Zack mumbled.

Cissnei was apparently shocked herself, shaking her head in mild surprise. "That thing," she whispered to her partner beside her. "I think its one of Hojo's escaped specimens. I thought I saw it on the R&D floor the night the president died, but..." She suddenly looked guilty at this next thought. "I didn't know it was _intelligent _though-"

Zack bared his teeth, suddenly incensed by Hojo's callous nature. Truly he didn't see the difference between man and beast; and experimented on things like this creature and himself with relative comfort. How cruel could a man like that possibly get? Was it possible for him to get worse?

_Don't jinx it._

Just then, Zack saw a team of men coming, with _freaking Rufus in tow_. Zack hurled a pebble to get Cloud's attention, making sure he and Cissnei were concealed afterward. When Cloud heard the clack, he quickly shot into position and stood ram-rod straight; rifle at the ready on his shoulder. He saluted as the group approached.

Rufus himself stopped short with Heidegger, flanked by one second class SOLDIER on his left and a first class on his right. Zack was sweating bullets at the sight of them; noticing their stares laser onto Cloud and his measly infantry uniform. They even shot each other glances, but Zack couldn't tell what was going on between them. Cissnei's gasp was the next thing he noticed, the girl squished up beside him.

"Right," the president drawled, moving towards the open hatch of the cargo vessel. He darted a glance at the lone grunt, his blond brow quirked a tad, "If word gets out that Sephiroth passed through here, I believe AVALANCHE will be in tow. No doubt they'll try to get as far underneath our skin as possible."

Heidegger's temper seemed to have simmered down some since Zack last saw him; he was right back to laughing his dang fool head off. "HA HA HA! We'll crush the lot of 'em as soon as they show! I wouldn't put it past 'em to try gettin' on this here ship!"

The young president seemed to find the grunt a little less interesting then, apparently figuring him for a meager guard. Zack felt his bowels settle at that, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the SOLDIERs were retaining their interest. Cissnei let out a relieved sigh next to him, but it wasn't shared.

Rufus turned back towards the other, flipping his hair as the ocean breeze played in it. "We can't have them interfering," he stated with finality. Suddenly he was standing taller than the other, his creased lips mirthless, "If I even hear or _see _them at all, make sure they're promptly dealt with. I don't want to have to start singling out names."

His last words were laced with not a threat, but a _promise_; despite their placid delivery. The man never usually used threats; he was above that. In truth, his carefully chosen words were a fair warning to everyone boarding the freighter.

Heidegger's usually boisterous boom of a laugh died right in his throat. "Gya... ah. Yes. Of course sir," was his meager assurance. Even he saluted the younger man, albeit his with less formality.

Rufus lazily hummed deep in his throat, the sound either scornful or thoughtful; Zack couldn't tell which. He turned towards his two helmeted guards, inclined his head at them, and then vanished into the vessel with practiced grace. Heidegger lagged behind, letting out a resigned breath.

Once the group cleared, Cloud matched Zack's fatigue with his own, shaking his head at the scene. He mumbled something under his breath, but the latter couldn't make it out. He straightened up when the boat announced its departure with a whistle.

"That's our que," Cissnei lowly uttered, his voice almost lost in the stirring winds.

"Hold it, maggot," commanded a voice that instantly curled the duo's nerves.

_Or not..._

The first class from earlier hadn't followed Rufus on board; he'd sent his partner in without him. He was marching up to Cloud, his hands behind his back in proper form. The man was easily as tall as Zack himself; his jaw pronounced and broad. Anything else unique to him was sadly covered by the SOLDIER uniform; complete with the helmet Zack himself never used back when he was one.

"Hey meat-shield. What's your name?" said the man.

Cloud didn't say anything initially, but his lips remained set as if carved from stone. _No trembling, nothing_, Zack noted. _Not an ounce of fear to be seen._

"Feldian, sir," Cloud immediately replied after hardly a span of mere seconds. He straightened and saluted, never faltering in his reply. He was down-right believable if Zack had to say anything about it. "Is thing anything amiss, sir?" He blandly inquired.

The SOLDIER seemed to shift his jaw some; a tell Zack and Cissnei could lean on. "What're you doin' here all by yer lonesome anyways? Hulling cargo isn't exactly a one-person job for a twig like you, private. Where's your squad?"

"The Commander told my two mates to go on shit patrol," Cloud replied with stout credibility. "They were supposed to be helping me with this, but they thought it funny to sandbag their way into the march," he shrugged next. "You should've seen those idiots trying to merge into the parade after it started. Its was on air, sir; you'll probably see it later."

"Oh?"

Cloud continued with greased ease, nodding despite the other's skeptical tone. "In the meantime, the sergeant figured it prudent to have me investigate these crates for any potential stowaways: You heard the president," he flicked his head in the direction Rufus went. "He doesn't need to be hearing any news that would surely put one of our own at risk. Heidegger's been on edge lately as it is."

The SOLDIER's jaw twitched again, but it seemed to be a gesture of acknowledgement. "Aye. That's true," he folded his enormous arms and sighed, his posture shifting. He put a gloved hand under his chin next, "And now that you mention it, I think I _did _see a couple of laggards trying to join the rear guard. Limp-dick morons. They're not representing the Security Department real well are they?"

Cloud's shoulders gave the tiniest slump, relieved that the other seemed to be buying into his story. As long as the man avoided asking anymore detailed questions, the blond would be okay in answering whatever he asked.

"Naw," he said casually. "Its been a real bitch lately; hiring all these new cocksters and expecting them to perform to specs right off the bat. Heidegger's been real harsh with them." He shook his head and threw in a shrug for good measure, "Most of 'em are back-water hics from one-horse towns hoping to make it big. Dreamers. Once they get a taste of what's really going on though, they'll shape up quick enough."

The SOLDIER chuckled at that. "Oh yeah? Ha. With words like that, I'd say your well on your well to shootin' yourself in the foot."

Cloud's smile was false, but it looked absolutely believable to the stranger in front of him. "I can say that 'cuz I've been there, done that. Joined the army myself believing the same things they were. So if I may, its _lance-corporal_ Feldian to you, sir."

The older man nodded, his arms relaxed at his sides. He placed a careless hand on his waist and nodded. "Ha ha! I like ya kid. Ya gots some real bullocks. Just make sure to keep your dick-trap shut," he jabbed a finger at him. "I mean it, kid. You may not be much of a green-horn anymore, but it don't mean you can go around smellin' your own musk."

"Noted sir. Is there anything else I need to know?" Cloud saluted.

"Yeah. Zip yer britches, boy. Your fly's undone."

At that, Cloud's cheeks seemed to tinge even _slightly _pinkish and he looked down, going to undo the damage. But when he discovered that said pants weren't in such unmentionable disarray, he scandalously glanced back at the jeering man before him.

"Gotcha kid," he bellowed. He began to walk onto the ship with a laugh echoing behind. "Man you Security grunt are so serious. Lighten up!"

Once he was gone, Cloud let out an irritated huff, his shoulders going slack again. He even added a modest "Alpha Mike Foxtrot" under his breath; leaving Zack to snigger unceremoniously at the hidden double-meaning.

Making sure that he was alone this time, he darted glances around and finished pushing some crates onto the ship, like a legitimate soldier. After-which, he ran into the bowels of the ship without a backwards glance, the boat's whistle resounding for another warning.

Zack and Cissnei skulked behind the AVALANCHE member and did the same, the former wondering all the while about Cloud's new demeanor- all the while laughing like a ass at the blond's expense. _Well, at least some things didn't change_, Zack chuckled, remembering how he pulled the same gag himself in those days.

Still, he felt troubled by Rufus's words; especially since he'd been looking Cloud's way when he mentioned AVALANCHE.

A troubling sign, if any.


	5. Oil on Water

**Wow guys. This thing is a whole 2000 words longer than normal. Even compared to my other stories! That doesn't include the author's note either.**

**Anyways, I had a tough time writing this. I can only hope you all find this more to your liking. There's two perspectives for this one; and you'll start seeing more like it from here onward. The first is Zack's, of course. The second will be Cloud's. **

**Make sure to leave review or simply pm me if you have any constructive ****criticism, questions, or otherwise. I'll be happy to answer if you guys get curious. Enjoy!**

* * *

~777~

Zack had never been sea-sick before.

He never had motion sickness at any point in time in recent memory either; he just wasn't the type of guy who ever had a weak stomach. But today, he now knew _exactly _how Cloud felt in-between assignments. Hell, he'd even been on many boat rides before and never felt the slightest inclination to projectile vomit off of _any _of them.

But today, he could've swore he set a new record for himself when he puked the equivalent of his own height and then some. He told himself half-jokingly he had some mighty propulsion power there; and even told Cissnei as much just to mess with her. Shockingly enough, she told him with a little leer, "That's nothing. You should've seen _Reno _when we last had a vacation; I swear he set a new world record when he managed to throw himself backward _and _got a distance almost twice yours. It's a shame no one recorded it."

Needless to say, he clammed up after that; impressed as he was.

On a more serious and profound note though, who knew being invisible while being tilted too and fro _while _being surrounded by potential enemies that will undoubtedly shoot you should they see you would be so exhausting? Also add surprise chest pain (thankfully minor ache actually) and a bad choice to eat eggs that morning _plus _his medication and you can bet he was feeling sicker than a dog right now.

What a great way to close his fan-freaking-tastic first day on his mission.

Zack had tried to lie down, but he got stir-crazy (and even sicker) when he was idle. He decided to do some squats too, hoping the familiarity of the routine would help him get over this dogged ailment. It ebbed a bit, but being invisible while doing it didn't make it as effective as he hoped; not to mention getting winded and dizzy from the motions. It infuriated him so much, he wound up pacing to the upper decks to get some fresh air. Which didn't help much ultimately, but it was something.

Staying cloaked for so many damn hours left him spiritually drained, leaving the man to hunker down under some crates in order to replenish his lost energy and regain visibility. He felt immediately better once he saw his own hands in front of his face, so it sucked that he had to spend _hours _doing this kind of back and forth.

On a side note, he hadn't forgotten about that thing; the cat thing he saw hanging with Cloud. He wondered if it notice his presence if he got near the box? He didn't want to chance it, so he stayed away from that part of the ship, just to be sure.

Cissnei came to check on him a few times, being a pal and rubbing his back in small circles while he drank down some QMC Turk-rationed Ethers she had on hand. She sometimes moved her fingers to certain pressure points on his body; and his nausea was eased almost _instantaneously_. He wondered where she learned to do that; but guessed Hendel, some kind of secret materia, or some sort of medical thing that came with her training. Or maybe it's something she simply learned and knew on her own for times like this; he couldn't guess. There really wasn't any way to tell when it came to Turks; they were paid more for a reason and Zack presumed it had something to do with the girl's queerly-situational knowledge.

Nonetheless, she patiently sat with him and distracted him with her measured pressure treatment while he chugged; keeping her voice low the rare times she spoke. He was glad Tseng let Cissnei volunteer herself to help. He was never going to discredit the Director's judgment ever again; or at least any time soon.

For the moment, Zack was now sitting behind his new 'usual' spot in the cargo hold, his arms resting propped on his now visible knees. Cissnei was standing guard while he rested, talking amicably with the occasional Shinra personal who cared enough to greet her. She cleverly steered them away with her mellow and easy-going banter, her amber gaze effortlessly enchanting to those blue-balled sea dogs.

Zack had tailed Cloud around for the first short while after boarding, hoping to locate some of the other AVALANCHE members. However, he lost him about a couple of hours into the ride; when Zack first started to feel _really _sick and he had to race to the bathrooms before he made a mess of the Hold. That had been five hours ago:

Now, it was dusk outside, the relentless ocean waves blending almost seamlessly into the dying light of the sinking sun. Zack had seen it before coming down here, and its imminent approach signaled that most of the guard here would be heading to their bunks soon. He'd be able to breath a little better once the lot of them went to bed.

Feeling a little better himself, he swung back to his feet while cloaking, stepping up to Cissnei's backside and tugging lightly on one of her rusty, coppery locks to indicate his readiness. She managed to break off a conversation she was having with a sailor and subtly bumped her shoulder with Zack's right side: She'll keep an eye out for Cloud and his company on the upper deck while Zack searched along here more. They've silently agreed to swap stations after every half-hour to quarter 'til. Or at least until Zack got sick.

Once she was gone, Zack resumed his search, daring to get as close as he could to every Shinra grunt passing him by in order to inspect them. He'd given up on tailing anyone in earnest earlier due to his fluctuating bouts of sickness and mildly well; distracted as he was with trying to remain silent all the while. Pretending to be a ghost just wasn't fun anymore.

He finally had a lucky break when he watched one man in particular duck down behind some crates, his lips cemented into a frown. He was holding a canteen, and was _heading right for the box with the cat in it_.

_Gotcha._

Zack immediately fell into step behind him, feeling silly for not figuring this much out earlier; of _course _Cloud would visit the creature he seemed familiar with. Of course he'd need to bring water to it- him, or whatever he was- while there was a shift in guard. And, of course Zack was an idiot whose been too distracted with his own impeded searching high and low to not think about it.

_Man. What would Angeal say?_

He followed the shifty figure until they stopped at the very corner of the ship where the Buster sword was stored: aft the stern; starboard-side. The crates were mostly wooden; one had a hole in the back that likely allowed air to filter through. Zack mentally face-palmed for not realizing it; he'd been so busy trying to _avoid _the box he hadn't thought to come around to catch any of AVALANCHE visiting the crimson cat-thing.

Whatever the case, Zack watched nonplussed as the grunt- most likely Cloud, turned to make sure he wasn't being watched. He shifted the lid, and then lowered the arm with the canteen in it. After a minute, he heard a muffled noise that resembled a "Thanks", the presumed Cloud nodding and pulling the lid back.

Zack didn't get any nearer than a few yards; he didn't know how strong that thing's sense of smell was, but he wasn't taking any chances. Nonetheless, he put a hand to his ear and eye-balled the grunt as he stuffed the canister away. 'Cloud' moved back out into the open, Zack following close behind:

Before leaving the chopper this morning, Cissnei had taken the liberty of digging out some ear-bud like pieces and handed one to Zack _after _they boarded the freighter; telling him he'll need the tiny transmitter for the ride ahead. He hadn't seen her pocket them initially due to his need for a piss break, so he'd been pleasantly surprised when she gave him one. They wouldn't have been able to use them during the parade, so the girl hadn't said anything until the boat was moving.

"Confirmation on visual," Zack whispered, hoping he was being quiet enough to remain unnoticed.

_"Which one?" _came the low, static response.

Zack prowled a little closer, noticing the grunt take pause to shoulder his rifle more appropriately. He watched the gait next; hoping it was that steady, confident one Cloud seemed to favor nowadays. The strides were a little long, but the careless movement and broad shoulders certainly was answer enough for the ex-SOLDIER.

"Blondie," he told her. He didn't want to use the names either; paranoid of his environment.

_"Stay on him," _was the expected response. _"Just don't do anything stupid to get yourself discovered."_

"Aye-aye," he rolled his eyes as he severed the contact. He earnestly liked her, but man she took her job too seriously. _Turks these days_, he thought playfully.

_Seriously though. Its not like I'm just gonna tap Cloud's shoulder and say 'Hey man! Guess what? I'm alive!' when we're surrounded on all sides by Shinra. Geez, give me some freaking credit here._

Cloud seemed to pause suddenly, as if distracted by something. Zack stopped just two yards from him, afraid that the other had heard his heavy boots hitting the metal floor. Granted, there was a bunch of other guys strolling about the area making a mild racket with their sloppy steps and steel-toed stompers; still not acclimated to the swaying rock of the ship. Zack wasn't even that loud either; but Cloud's ability to sense something amiss was certainly sharper than most. He even inclined his head in a manner that reminded the ex-SOLDIER of a dog scenting something.

That's when Zack heard it too; not noticing it until he _really _listened:

A noise resembling a mix between a gag and a breathy moan was heard, the sound obviously one indicative of a fellow unused to life at sea. Zack certainly thought the noise similar to himself; having hurled his share not so long ago. This person obviously didn't feel that much different, and Zack almost pitied them for it.

As for Cloud, he approached thee port-side of the ship warily, stopping just shy of another sailor whose not doing a very good job of remaining inconspicuous. This guy- or rather, _girl_ was bowed over with her hands on her knees, her complexion waxier than paste. She had a bob hair-cut, her thin legs scrawnier than twigs. Her ancestry was Wutain- that much was obvious. She certainly wasn't Shinra, so to be dressed in a disguise like this was rather thoughtless.

However, that wasn't the thing that caught Zack's eye. It was how _familiar _she looked that left him stunned.

"_Ughhhh_," she stumbled, wobbling on her footing. She tilted precariously when the ship lurched a certain way; her face tinging greener with every movement. "-_Ulp. _Okay, whose idea was it for us to be taking this ship again," she mumbled. "'Cuz this is the _worst _idea ever."

The camouflaged Cloud shook his head curtly, his next words certainly confirming Zack's suspicions of who he was. "That would be mine," he replied stiffly, not at all tolerant of her disrespectful tone. He sighed in a way indicative of his annoyance next, "Yuffie, ya know, you could at least _try _to stay hidden. I figured you better at this kinda thing. You're gonna give us away at this rate."

_OH MY GOD. YUFFIE?_

Zack's jaw fell agape for the third- or fourth?- time that day; marveling at the coincidence before him. What were the odds he'd run into _her _of all people besides Cloud?

The girl meanwhile, Yuffie as fate would have it, jabbed a finger at him, "Hey! You could at least have _some _sympathy! I'm _dying _here!"

"Not quick enough it seems," He retorted blandly, his tone making it hard to discern whether or not he was joking. "If these guys find out who are, I'm not gonna lift a finger to save your neck. Ya got that?"

"You don't... _ughhh. _You don't mean it," She planted a hand on a steel crate next to her, stabilizing her footing.

Cloud harrumphed shortly, as if to say, _Watch me _without having to spare the girl the breath for it.

Yuffie spit some bile off to the side, but then shot him a choleric look that could freeze water. "Meanie," she mumbled, her voice not fully into it.

Zack darted glances between the two, at a loss for words. When did the two meet anyways? That aside, he was very much baffled (and reasonably worried) by the sight of this harsh, stark change in his blond friend.

_Come to think of it, _He pondered._ Didn't Cloud get motion sickness too? Why isn't he sick now? Did he get over it? Not to side with Yuffie here, but I'd think he'd be a __**little **__understanding...? _

_And his personality... its kinda shitty too. Who is this guy? He ain't the Cloud I knew. _His lips thinned next, _Then again, he IS talking to Yuffie of all things. Can't say I haven't talked to her that way myself. That girl's hard to talk too at times._

Before Zack could linger on that, another Shinra foot soldier abruptly stopped doing their rounds nearby, wandering over in a cautious, rather untrained lope. Their uniform looked two sizes too big; baggy as it was on the legs. The waist-line was a little frumpy; like they were wearing clothes rolled-up under it.

Zack was starting to wonder if this one was an enemy, but then the individual coughed neatly; the sound quite feminine in nature. "Uh, Cloud-?" _She_ began uncertainly.

The aforementioned man sighed again, his tone exhausted but it contained no bite to it. "You know, I could've been anyone else dressed like this," he told the newcomer in a low murmur. "You need to be more careful about who you approach."

The grunt- _woman_\- giggled at him, her smile rather small but sincere. When she spoke, it flowed like purified water; a clear current that sent waves of _familiarity _rippling through Zack.

"Sorry," she quickly apologized, matching his lowered tone with her own ginger one. "-But you know, you're both being a little obvious..."

"Good to know," he sardonically replied, but it wasn't meant to be dismissive despite its frank delivery.

The girl didn't seem to mind his aloof attitude, brushing it off quite easily. _She must know him too_, was Zack's immediate guess. "You guys do realize that there's a _Turk _wandering around here though, right?"

"Oh yeah. Rusty-hair," He replied casually, making Zack forcefully fight his inadvertent snigger. Cloud though turned away from the unsightly tangle of pallored limbs that was Yuffie, his tone shifting to bored disinterest. "She's been snooping around. I can tell she's looking for us."

"You think so-?"

Cloud's following nod was absolute. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "I've been careful. But with _this _idiot behind me-"

"Hey-! _Ulp!_"

"-It's only a matter of time before she comes sniffing around back around here. She likes to haunt this area for long periods of time," he stated, his tone matter-of-fact.

_He... noticed that? _Zack blinked, hunkering down on one of his knees while measuring the clearly matured man before him. _Cissnei's been watching out for me in that time. If she hadn't been distracted, she probably coulda found Yuffie here._

Zack ran his speculative gaze over the smaller individual, immediately finding her entire form familiar too. He thought he knew that lilting, playful voice from somewhere; her short stature; even the way she carried herself. Careful, demure, always taking small steps.

...Yeah. Zack _definitely_ knew her, his throat suddenly going bone-dry at the thought.

"Did you find Barret in the meantime? I could've sworn Tifa was looking out for him..." continued the girl. "I mean, I'm kind of... worried for him."

_...Tifa?_

The name was jarring to hear, and prompted Zack to refocus his attention on the blond beside him for confirmation.

Cloud folded his arms in a manner reminiscent of Zack himself, his lowered gaze displaying his confusion. "Haven't seen 'em," he drawled casually, his tone slightly troubled despite his ease in his posture. "Although, now that you mention it, I don't think I've seen him _at all _since this morning either."

"You'd think with a guy _that _big he'd stick out like a sore thumb," the woman's hand drifted to her breast; a gesture Zack now saw as trademark of a certain someone he knew from years ago.

By now, the bells were ringing off with resounding clarity; his discombobulated mind paging him _Earth to Zack Fair: You know her god-damn name for crying out loud! _There wasn't any ifs, ands, or buts about it. The thing was though, he didn't want to say it. Not even to himself.

Cloud merely hummed, unfolding his arms and nodding to a snap decision he made on the spot. "Don't worry about it. I'll look for 'im," He assured with easy confidence, his voice drawing Zack out of his mental funk. He even squared his shoulders, looking slightly larger in the process. "You make sure nobody finds Yuffie down here. If things start to look hairy, ditch her and meet me top-side."

"Aw come on!" Yuffie yowled. "You don't have to be such a _jerk _about it!"

"And you don't have to be so damn _loud _about it neither," Cloud shot back in a low hiss.

The older girl meanwhile nodded her consent, giggling. _Like clear, ringing bells and wind chimes,_ Zack thought.

"I'll keep that in mind," she jested; her tone however betrayed the fact that no such thing would ever happen. If anything, she was quite eager to aid the younger; bending next to her and lifting an arm with a faint green glow in it. Obviously materia, but its effect seemed to leave the Wutian brat breathing more easily the next moment later.

As for Cloud, he skulked off towards the stairs; forcing Zack to follow now that he'd actually located him. The ex-SOLDIER stalked after him, albeit reluctantly. He couldn't help his backwards glance towards the girls though, his heart thumping painfully in his chest; a coiling mass of pythons squeezing the breath out of his lungs.

The infuriating gnawing at his innards made him sick all over again; Zack rendered completely helpless to its vicious assault as he weighed the possibility that the older woman helping Yuffie right now could very well be the one girl he's been wanting to see for the last five years. He didn't want to entertain that thought, but there it was; in all of its phantasmal glory. He forced himself to leave the two behind, knowing that if he lingered, he'd do something they'd all regret.

Unfortunately for the invisible man, as he passed the two crouched forms, he didn't notice one lifting her head in advent surprise. He hadn't brushed against her in any way, nor had he been any nearer than two whole meters. And yet, she _still _somehow felt a presence where there seemed to be none. She let out a minuscule huff as he passed her; not even understanding herself why she felt so unsettled. She moved her head and unknowingly tracked Zack's progress towards the metal stairs, distractedly withdrawing from Yuffie now that she's finished.

Aerith could only hum in surprise, wondering why in all the world she thought she sensed a _fourth _in their party of three.

Ignorant of this, Zack continued shadowing the younger man; his stomach wadded up like soiled, rancid laundry. Cloud at least didn't seem all the wiser; so that was a relief.

They made it to the upper deck, the darkness of the night fully enveloping the world around them in an endless curtain of pitch. There was a moon out too; but a modest layer of cloud cover blanketed it in large part. The lanterns and ambient lights of the ship was bright enough at least, so Zack had no trouble navigating the main deck.

He pinged Cissnei with the quick update on finding more of AVALANCHE; relaying his concern about the girl in particular.

_"You think she's Aerith?" _she asked.

"Yeah, no doubt about it. She's in the hold, probably still with the Wutian sailor. Keep an eye out; she's wearing an Army uniform too big for her."

_"Copy that. Stay on Cloud."_

"Roger."

Zack was anxious to say the least after his encounter with the flower girl. He needed to use his respirator badly; but with the way things went today, he hadn't had the chance. That thing made noise when he turned it on; and considering that he was entirely surrounded by enemies with Cissnei being the exception, he didn't dare use it. He'd been feeling short on breath since entering the barracks earlier; and that's a dreadfully _long _time to be going without adequate air. He inwardly thanked his freak endurance and steady healing for his ability to function.

He did his breathing exercises silently no less, glad he was out in the middle of the ocean in some ways. It was nothing but wide open air, free of any sort of pollution for miles around. When the clouds shifted enough, the stars came out to play; Zack feeling mildly pacified by the scenery. His enfeebled smile came more easily suddenly; his hands migrating to his hips as he savored this moment. Even the waves and brine were calming; and if he didn't focus on being invisible, he felt a little better than usual.

However, he also felt his mind intrusively wander back to Aerith; wondering if she's seen a night sky quite like this before and if she was staying down in the cargo hold for a reason. He didn't know if she'd _completely_ tamed her fear of the sky yet; and its something he found bothersome. He inwardly vowed to take her on a real boat ride in the future; one where they didn't have to wear Shinra skins or weave layers of deception in order to remain free.

Here they were, on said ship, far from civilization, surrounded by an entire ocean and endless skies, a _limited_ amount of enemies, and unpredictable, but attractive danger. The weather was damn clear, the atmosphere calm and lazy, and yet the majority of Zack's comrades sat beneath this tranquil dream-scape utterly _ignorant of him_.

It was _fucking __infuriating_!

If he were to quickly assassinate Rufus and the SOLDIERs without their knowing (thanks to cloak), take out the scant handful of Army, take command of this vessel and pirate it away, he'd be _free._

Ah, but life had a funny way of dealing nice guys like Zack a bad hand: He may be a ballsy mofo, but he simply didn't have the cruel streak needed for espionage and lacked the initiative to attempt commandeering this ship; breaking his promise to Tseng and Cissnei in the process. Other than lack of knowledge in sailing; killing Rufus and Heidegger would've probably endangered his Turk comrades and leave the chain of command open for assholes like _Scarlet _to take over.

And really; who the fuck wanted Scarlet as president of Shinra? Not him. Reeve may be an 'okay' guy, but whose to say the claret-covered bitch-in-charge wouldn't assassinate the man should she feel inclined? Not to mention that he'd wind up endangering Aerith _even more_.

So no, no hijacking cargo ships tonight, thanks.

Stray imagination aside, he kept the blond in sight; watching as the smaller individual slinked over to another foot soldier resting at the beam of the ship, port-side. Leaning against the bulwark, this one was shifting around on their feet uncomfortably; mumbling incoherently.

"D-dammit. _Fuck_." It was female, and vaguely familiar.

Zack stopped in place, feeling his gut churn when his brain started connecting this voice to one he _knew _he heard before. And to him, it hadn't felt that long ago when he last heard it.

"Tifa?"

Cloud had stopped just shy of the other, but then his murmur and close proximity seemed to startle her so bad, she jumped. A ripping noise was heard, and then a clearly audible _"Dammit all to Hell!" _was hissed rather reproachfully. Both men cringed at the sheer venom in it.

"Uh... having a problem?" He started, his cocky strut gone and bland tone suddenly threaded with real concern.

"N-No. Yes-? Ugh." Tifa didn't turn around, but clearly she was having trouble fumbling with something. Cloud was only mere feet from her now, and it seemed to make her even more jittery.

"See..." she started. "I-I, I kinda... Oh, this is _so _embarrassing."

Cloud's voice suddenly shifted, regaining its lost tenor Zack was more familiar with. "You need help with something?" He asked, looking rather awkward despite his helmet covering his face.

Tifa said nothing for a minute, and Zack was able to have a moment of clarity to finally recognize the woman without interruption: Indeed, destiny seemed to be laughing at him today, throwing all of these old faces at him; one after the other within minutes. And this particular individual was Tifa Lockhart no less; a young lady Zack met in Nibelheim during his deployment.

To say the least though, the last time he saw her, he thought she was a goner. Her wounds were inflicted by Sephiroth of all people; and _no one _ever lived through his attack to ever tell the tale. Zack grinned nonetheless, feeling relieved to see her; even if her last words to him was just _how _much she loathed Shinra.

At any rate, Tifa didn't readily relinquish any information to Cloud, her ignominy rendering her largely mute. Cloud had to be the one to press with, "Look, if there _is _something I could help with, I only can if you let me."

_And now there's the kind-hearted short-stack I know._

Zack switched glances between them, watching as the girl stressed and pulled at her clothes. Eventually, she seemed resigned to her fate; not turning around but gesturing to Cloud with a flick of her head. "Y-yeah," she stuttered. "My uniform you see... I mean, I think when we disguised ourselves this morning, I think I took Aerith's shirt by mistake."

"Uh-huh-?" Zack could imagine the raised brow on his friend.

"And uh... She took mine since we were in a hurry..."

"Yeah?"

"-Ugh. Cloud, I _really _don't want to have to spell it out-"

"..._OH_!"

Both boys felt their jaws collectively fall open, although only one could be seen doing it. Cloud promptly had the good graces to clamp his shut before she saw it though. Zack had the advantage of a steel respirator and cloaking, so he didn't bother. Already, he was feeling the beginnings of a laugh bubbling in his throat.

Cloud however said with the ever-so subtle tremor, "Eh, w-what size did you need...?"

"...Extra large. Mens. Please."

_OH GREAT MINERVA. _

Zack was fighting the desperate need to laugh now, all the while the poor, pink-cheeked fool next to him slunk off to fulfill the humbled request. The blond didn't even notice how close he'd been to his old friend; embarrassed as he was. Zack however _had _to walk away at this point; chortling uncontrollably.

_Now __**that **__would explain why Aerith's disguise looked too big for her! _

_"-Garm! Garm! Do you hear me?"_

Cissnei's voice was barely heard; but he caught it no less. He tapped the little pen-tip sized button on his transmitter, still giggling like a hormonal high-schooler.

"*Pfft* Yeah?" He snorted as he choked on his own cackling.

_"...I think we have a problem," _she went on without preamble, her voice lower than usual. _"See, I wasn't sure if what I saw was real or just a result of how dark it is down here in the hold, but I think I saw an __**armed **__stowaway down here, and I thought he-"_

He just kept on belly-laughing; quite unable to stop before Cissnei got somehow irritated enough to say, _"Keep it down! You're going to get caught!"_

"Let's say I'm not the only one risking exposure~" He almost sing-songed, but he kept his tone a whispery cackle instead. He tried to straighten his mind and face; honestly he tried, but it was proving to be a fruitless endeavor. This girl here was trying to tell him she saw something dangerous and yet he was laughing like a moron.

_Okay. Get a grip man! Focus. _

Plainly frazzled (which spoke in volumes of just how distressed she was), Cissnei then pronounced in vehement urgency, _"GARM! I think I saw __**Sephiroth**__ of all people go down here and I think he's-"_

Just then, the ship gave an almighty heave, pitching violently sideways. Zack's smile promptly died as he stumbled port-side, waving his arms comically around to regain his footing. He even nearly hit Tifa; but the girl didn't notice his boots loudly hitting the deck _right _behind her. She was too busy trying to keep herself supported; the sloshing of the churning waves and matching yelps of all men nearby may have helped potentially drown out Zack's clumsy steps.

Once the ship bobbed back into place, an alert rang out across the ship; the Big Voice ringing out a clear warning for a suspicious character on board: The bitch of it was, it was right on cue with the Turk's words. The ex-SOLDIER immediately forgot the reason he was even smirking in the first place.

"...Uh, Cissnei?" Zack warily mumbled, trying to get some space between he and Tifa.

There was a noise on the other end, and then, _"Garm, Aerith, the Wutian and I believe Cloud are heading up. I could've swore I told you to stay on him-?"_

"Yeah but he... Cissnei I... _Fuck_," He did that little mental face palm again. He then quickly changed tact, "Look. You didn't just say, 'Sephiroth' by any chance, did you?"

_"...I did."_

"Oh sweet mother of Minerva this isn't good," he hoarsely croaked, feeling his chest constrict several times. Breathing was getting too hard to do today. "Cissnei, whatever you do, don't say his name again," he rasped.

Zack was growing steadily more paranoid of jinxes these days; and he damn sure didn't want the Turk's words to be true. As a child, he always thought his mother's superstitious rapping on wood was irritating, but now he was starting to see why she did it. Hell, he may even start doing it too at this rate.

He then muttered rather loudly, "Also, _get the fuck up here where I can see you. _Don't go anywhere near where you last saw him!"

Zack let go of the receiver, not waiting for a response. He tip-toed towards the hatch leading into the hold, but then he saw three figures abruptly shoot out. Said three were two grunt and a sailor; whom Zack knew to be Yuffie upon a single cursory glance. He was also especially relieved when he saw Aerith, almost tripping on her men-sized boots as she was. The last broader-shouldered one shot straight over to Tifa, zipping right past Zack within _inches _of him.

_Too close!_

"Tifa! Are you alright?" Cloud had the decency to remember the shirt oddly enough; already he was giving her the one he scratched up.

"I'm fine," said the other, throwing off the torn one she had.

She had her normal tank-top on underneath thankfully; but still Zack got an eye-full of her _god damn honkers _despite she being fully clothed_. _He shamelessly gawped for a minute, but then remembered himself and turned away. Still, Tifa merely threw the new spare over her head, not giving a damn about her helmet being in the way. She hastily tucked it in while Cloud, Aerith, and Yuffie stood around her to keep anyone from seeing. At least it was night out on top of that, so no one saw her changing into it.

"Do you think anyone discovered any of us?" Aerith timidly inquired, her rifle-free hand curling on her chest in a tight little ball. This gesture was probably a tic born of her nervousness; Zack noted.

In the meantime, said man tried not to stare at Aerith herself so intensely, but he couldn't help it. He was close enough now that he could almost _touch _her. He did no such thing however; forcibly telling himself to play it cool.

Still, her words did seem troubling until a large man standing taller than Zack himself stomped over. Dressed as a sailor and carrying himself with a profound swagger, as well as being _literally armed _with a metal right arm that could possibly be a weapon, Zack knew immediately that this man was most likely the current leader of AVALANCHE as well; he certainly already acted the part with that barbed, authoritative tone of his.

"Who the _HELL _gave us away?" He bellowed, his grizzly, muscly appearance and dark skin making him appear more bear than man.

Tifa shushed at him, looking hurriedly around to make sure no one heard the suspicious query. Not that anyone seemed to be paying attention though: Shinra soldiers were darting around like a hive of angry blue and white hornets. Many were in near hysterics at this point; one even dashing up out of the hatch screaming something like "Intruder! INTRUDER!" at the very top of his lungs.

When Zack paid attention though, he did see one of Rufus's guards; the first class SOLDIER from earlier ducking and weaving past the majority. A man on a mission, he was already headed down into the ships's bowels. He had a standard long sword on hand, his pronounced jaw split into a worried grimace. Zack intrusively thought this as he watched the man vanish from view: that this poor fool wasn't coming back up here without being wrapped in a body bag first. Going to confront Sephiroth alone wasn't something any sane man would do; but then again, _he _didn't know that.

Only a couple of seconds later, a Security officer was seen stumbling through the hatch while dragging a bleeding leg with him. Cissnei was with this one, trying to help support him. Her teeth was gritted, sweat building on her brow and her pants leg dripping with blood.

Zack immediately forgot about the SOLDIER and felt his breath desert him briefly, hurrying over while remaining behind a squad of men. One had the moral decency to take the injured Army out of her hands, nodding in acknowledgement of her and leading the injured man away.

As he did that, Zack tapped the girl's left shoulder and pulled on one of her bunched coils of wavy hair; informing her of his presence and gently tugging her to a corner of the ship for some semblance of privacy. She followed surreptitiously, looking for all intents and purposes a little winded and needing some air. This was in fact not that far from the truth in some ways.

Once they were a safe distance, Zack turned to her and half-whispered in choked murmur, "_Are you alright_? That's not your blood, is it-?"

She shook her head to answer the last question, her arms folding around herself. She frowned as she listened to his strained words though, her nose doing the cute-kitten-wrinkle thing. "I'm fine," she replied with a dry tone. "This belongs to the man I helped. He's lucky considering... You however don't sound too good yourself."

"I'm okay. Really," his tone was brittle now; Zack forced himself to straighten it and coughed. "Its you who was just down there with a maniac!"

She rubbed at her eyes tiredly; her right hand sweeping itself through her forelocks and up into her rusty hair. "Great Gaia, this is bad," she breathed. "Like, this is _very, very _bad..."

"Whaddya mean? What happened?" Zack's tone was deadly serious, but at least his shaking was lessening. He had no idea when he started doing it, but he surmised that it must've started when she first told him about their little stowaway.

For that matter, when exactly did Zack fucking Fair _of all people _start this shaking habit in the damn first place? He intrusively shelved that random observation for the moment.

As for Cissnei, she shook her head at first, as if in mild disbelief about the unfolding chaos herself. "I saw... Well," she hesitated, as if voicing it was a curse within itself. "-I thought I saw _Sephiroth _of all things go into the fire room, but... That would mean openly admitting that he really _is _alive and we're in a bad situation. Like, _really _bad."

"Why did the ship tilt then?" Zack sharply pressed. "Details man! I need to know what happened down there!"

She heaved another aggrieved breath, "I think he... I dunno. He displaced some heavy cargo while he was on his little rampage. He started killing the guards that came to confront him."

Zack felt his gut twist up at this; his sea-sickness returning full-force. "And you weren't hit because-?" he had to ask, knowing Sephiroth was not known for his leniency in targets.

"I was already half-way up the stairs with the guard before he finished dealing with them."

"Oh," it still didn't sound quite right, but Zack decided to let the thought go for now. He was just blessedly glad he didn't lose her to the mad-man in question.

"You know," she sighed, her tone already fatigued. "-I didn't really believe it at first. I mean, Tseng told me about the footage and the potential that we may encounter Sephiroth a little later on in our assignment, but... I didn't think it was going to be _today_. And I certainly didn't expect to see a dead-man walking on top of that."

She darted a hardened glance over at AVALANCHE, doing a mental head-count of all the members and then grimly turned towards Zack. Her eyes suddenly looked shadowed as she asked apprehensively, "Where's the cat?"

_Uh oh._

Zack bit his lip, and then noticed Cloud realize the same thing several meters away. Quick as a whip, the blond was already hurrying off towards the cargo hold to search for their hidden companion. The worst part of it was; every member of AVALANCHE was seen marching down into the hold with him.

_Including Aerith._

"Oh HELL no!" spat the ex-SOLDIER.

"_Fuck_!" Cissnei mouthed.

Zack and Cissnei cloaked, disregarding protocol and not giving two shits if anyone saw the Turk vanish into thin air. They only cared that Aerith was now deliberately putting herself into jeopardy; a scenario neither had fore-shadowed for this ride. This said, they moved in unison to follow the group as they headed below.

Right into Sephiroth's waiting hands.

* * *

~777~

...

Cloud's heart thrummed against his ribs, feeling that tangible sense of urgency blend into the grim expectancy of unwinding peril.

Hell, when he shot to the deck with Aerith and Yuffie in tow, he thought Red XIII would follow them upon hearing the alarm. The feline-like creature certainly had the sense and smarts; and it wasn't like his box was locked. And with the Shinra personal running around like there never was such thing as chain-of-command, it was the perfect opportunity for the quadra-ped to book it and hide elsewhere.

_So why didn't he?_

Leading the trumpeting sets of multiple feet behind him, he pounded down the metal railing and raced into the hold; unprepared for the stark shift in atmosphere. It was too quiet here; the complete opposite of the chaotic din above. The blond was able to pick up on the vague resonance of the waves sloshing against the metal hull; the creak of the shifting, now unbolted and splintered cargo in every tilt. He even thought he heard a rat somewhere; likely scuttling to safety some-fuck-where.

The distinct sound of the first class SOLDIER in the next room was noted, but Cloud wasn't so sure. The noise was gone as quick as he picked it up, leaving it up to speculation as to what happened. When he strained to hear though, he did pick up on something far more troubling-

_Behind us..._?

Another set of feet hitting metal, maybe two. He darted a look up the stairs, thinking he heard the sound originate from there. He saw nothing of course, and belatedly noted that the Shinra soldiers were making no efforts to come down here. He wondered why briefly, but then suddenly didn't care: Red XIII was his priority right now. The less that Shinra got in his way, the better.

He still couldn't shake that weird feeling from earlier. Like he was being followed, and _had _been all freaking day; even _now_. Cloud tried to ignore it, looking steadily around the large room with abrasive hesitation while straining his mildly enhanced ears for any other anomaly.

He noted that the very scant few who'd stayed down here to search for the rogue stowaway hadn't lived very long past their first glance. Each one was a ragged pile of blood-caked flesh and torn cloth; scattered and in various disarray. Some lie in a supine position; dying just as they confronted what they saw; whilst others appeared as if they saw something that frightened them and they've tried to flee to the deck above. The few that managed to get up out of the way were lucky the stowaway hadn't felt the particular and murderous desire to press home his attack.

That was probably the _only _thing that saved the survivors- Other than the fact that this stowaway must have business to conduct down here of some unforeseen kind.

Cloud approached a corpse and noted the clean deliverance of the killing blow shared amongst them all; the sharpest cut that split his formerly-uniformed torso nearly into two. This poor bastard's coiling innards and offal were exposed; still spurting like a perverted, broken fountain. His soiled trousers rose a profound stink of urine and shit; the putrid aroma inter-mingled with the disgusting metallic perfume of blood.

Tifa stopped behind him, shuddering as if in cold remembrance: Cloud didn't have to see it to know; he knew she recalled the pain it brought her.

She may not apparently remember Nibelheim clearly (she said as much, much to his surprise), but she certainly couldn't forget the malicious rending of her own chest and belly. Her father's death, the swift and cruel pile-up of all the innocents that once been her neighbors, all of it had been a mad blur of heat, smoke, color and pain. So, perhaps it did make a little sense that the details were a little skewed for her, considering the physical trauma.

When Tifa had been injured, it wasn't as deep as what these guys got. If it had been, she wouldn't be here otherwise. Granted, it could've killed her from mere blood loss alone. How she survived had been beyond his guess; but that was besides the point.

For right now though, all his friends stood gob-smacked: Even Yuffie couldn't manage the words. Aerith was just as silent; her hands plastered over her gaping mouth and her slight, slim body trembling. Cloud could've swore he saw a faint sheen film over her transfixed stare; and he was left with an intrusive desire to bodily take her back up the stairs. Or make her look away in general.

Barret however was the one who spoke first, his words low, "Holy. _Loving_. _FUCK_. What kinda man coulda done this?"

Cloud snarled, his teeth baring like fangs. He drew himself up and went to the area Red and the Buster sword were stowed without gracing the man with an answer.

He sensed Tifa and Aerith suddenly matching his steps; and it relieved him to know that these two women so easily confided in his enhanced strength. He didn't want to disappoint them, or let them down:

And he certainly wouldn't let anything happen to Tifa a _fourth _time; no sir. Between Mt. Nibel when they were children, the burning town, the loss of her only family, _Sephiroth _cutting her down there-after; and now their own adventure and the risks it ran- He wouldn't let one more soul hurt her. Not _ONE_.

And it goes the same for the flower girl; whom he almost jealously guarded ever since her abduction in Midgar. He felt _wholly _responsible for her capture, and being left in the hands of a mad-man like Hojo to toy with no less. If it happened again, he had no way of knowing what kind of barbaric methods the Shinra company would employ to get her to comply with their delusions- And he didn't know if he'd be on time to save her from whatever it was. He promised her as he promised Tifa that he'd protect her.

_I'll shield them both, _he mentally swore. _With my own body if need be._

He made it to the box, rapping on it when he noticed it hadn't been disturbed in any way; _Thank Gaia_. The lid lifted, Red peeking out with a cautious twitch of the wet, black nose.

"Cloud?" he said, blinking his confusion away.

Cloud stepped away, giving the four-legged ally some room to leap out. "Y'all right?" He asked rather brusquely, concealing his relief.

Red nodded, but his one eye was roiling in emotion; a sensation he didn't let creep across his countenance in any way. His rouge fur bristled some in this rippling wave across his torso once; but then that was that.

"I didn't see," he began with a brittle monotone. He was speaking in vague, broken fragments, as if genuinely frightened by whatever he witnessed- or rather, _heard_. This development disturbed Cloud; Red was always the most composed of their group. Even when confronted by the dangers they've braved so far the canine-feline remained stoic and steadfast.

"-But I could hear them. Hear _him_," He inclined his head towards the boiler room. "I heard his boots," he continued. "Those men, standing their ground, but then he... By my ancestors, Cloud. I don't think I've ever sensed something so _wrong _before. I don't think this thing is even human!"

Aerith shot forward and threw her arms around the creature, threading an ivy hand through his mohawk in compassionate reassurance.

As for Cloud, he could only say nothing to this; troubled as he was. He left what he hoped passed as a reassuring pat on the creature's shoulder and moved towards the crate with the Buster sword.

He removed his helmet but kept his disguise overall; he didn't need the former for what's up ahead, and it only obstruct his eye-sight. He threw said helmet into the box and withdrew the sword. He couldn't clip it on as he usually did, but he felt better holding onto it anyways.

Next, he briskly went to another crate to retrieve the weapons AVALANCHE collectively hoarded earlier, opening the box their gear was stashed in. After properly equipping themselves, Tifa and the rest pondered on what to do with their disguises, but decided to keep them as Cloud had. The group then moved towards the fire room in unison; side-stepping past any bodies in their path.

Cloud stopped before the door, motioning for the others to move away; just in case anything popped out. Aerith's hand was white-knuckled on her staff, while Yuffie shivered uncontrollably. Tifa seemed hesitant to move more than needed, but she no less moved with deliberate purpose and profound surety. Barret's arm transformed; the Gatling gun morphing into shape and the man slipping the newly acquired ammo cartridges into it.

Seeing this, Cloud presumed his crew ready and pushed the heavy re-enforced door open.

The Boiler room was pretty spacious for this ship; large enough for a full-grown Nibelheim mountain dragon to stretch out its wings. It had metal crates here and there propped up in the corners; likely holding all the coal the furnace needed. Its also expectedly hot in here; but not sweltering or too unpleasant for someone whose used to almost year-long summer conditions. Probably a bad sign, but Cloud didn't know anything about stoking flames on ships to say.

Speaking of which, there was a handful of bodies in here too; all being said stokers. Cloud's gut plummeted at this; as he knew this sea-worthy vessel will not be able to finish its voyage without its proper hands tending it.

Even so, that was merely a secondary concern.

The first was the SOLDIER in front of them, wearing his trademark black uniform and standing unnervingly close to the ships' roiling heart; his back to them. He was slouched ominously though; as if his strength had wavered and fizzled out completely. Cloud's eyes however were trained on the _blade sticking out of his back_, the man likely resting his entire weight on it. He watched in sick fascination as the limp torso was slowly lifted by the silvery thorn within, and then thrown his way without warning whatsoever.

"MOVE!"

Cloud dove aside, rolling over and positioning himself defensively in front of Aerith and Tifa as the body rushed past him. The body hit the door with a dull _whump _behind them, sealing it shut as if in finality.

Undettered, he drew the devil's cleaver to bear; the Buster sword's hefty torso a reassuring sight as it formed a physical barrier between himself and the foe before him. Cloud found a his lack of fear or surprise a little odd; but it wasn't something he questioned. Even when a living nightmare made flesh and bone stood before him, he felt grounded. Steady.

This familiar, monolithic shadow stood silhouetted against the orange conflagration, his gun-metal black form in jagged relief against the vivid, Hellish back-drop. He inclined his platinum-silken haired head ever so slightly, mako-cyan eyes every bit as lurid, luminescent and unblinking as Cloud remembered. His imposing blade glittered coldly, a full moon's pale light in a starless, inky sky captured into solid steel. His smile was a corrosive, poisoned, oil slick blooming into being; clear as pitch across clear white water and cementing every cursed promise he ever breathed before them.

_Sephiroth._

Said individual however seemed to take Cloud's heroic display in stride; his smile only widened incrementally, slowly. He lifted his head as if in polite deference; greeting the other as he would a humbled friend.

"Ah. Another one," he sighed, his voice a low, modulated cello. "I suppose you've come here with a requiem made beforehand?"

_Fucking crappy poetic Prose BULLSHIT._

Cloud's face contorted; a snarl ripping across his unusually calm, stoic facade. Red began to growl somewhere off to his right; the quadruped's guttural, blustery bellow echoing his own inner wrath perfectly. His grip tightened on the Buster sword as well, taking a cautious step towards his foe.

"_Shut up,_" he snapped, not foolish enough to throw himself at the other this time. The last time he did such a stupid thing was literally the last thing Cloud remembered anything _since five years ago_. He had no idea where this hole in his life came from, nor what it concealed, but he could doubtless pin the blame on the one who punctured said hole into his life. Throwing himself at this callous ex-SOLDIER was simply folly; a lesson learned the hard way.

"What the _fuck _are you doing alive?" he bit next, keeping his simmering anger in check.

Sephiroth however retained his acidic smile; it hadn't widened nor slackened, sitting there placidly and perfectly etched onto a face of chiseled marble. He didn't blink, or shift a muscle. His spider-silk hair airily flowed as fire writhed behind him; the heat stirring an unseen current in the air.

"Our time is upon us. Don't you know?" He listlessly went on, not at all acknowledging Cloud's previous query. "...Her gift to us, our reunion, the one meant for all her children... it is nigh. Surely you sense it too, little puppet?"

"What the _fuck _is he on about?" Barret sputtered, keeping his arm leveled at Sephiroth. "He ain't talkin' no damn sense!"

Yuffie for once said nothing, fighting to stay straight on her feet while trying not to look like she'll chuck her guts anytime she opened her mouth. Aerith, to her credit, had ceased her trembling as a whole. She favored a more reserved expression, but her eyes betrayed her fear and uneasiness.

Tifa however was a different story; the blond could've swore he heard the leather of her gloves protest as the girl tightened her fists. Her shivering stemmed from her bubbling fury; a sentiment he himself shared. She didn't conceal her wrath or fear; for she was lacking the latter as far as he can see. If he had to word it, he'd say she was _blindingly _enraged.

Cloud scoffed, trying to keep it cool for the more inwardly distressed of his comrades. He didn't want them to feel like he couldn't protect them; or even remotely get the idea. "The only thing I'm sensing is your funeral," he pronounced, fueling his bravado. His eyes were on Sephiroth as he said this, but his awareness was largely arrested on Aerith and Yuffie; whom he sensed were apprehensive. He added for good measure, "This time, when I bury you, you'll gonna _stay _that way."

This emboldened proclamation only seemed to confound the great Sephiroth; because suddenly the man's immaculate smirk seemed to drop in favor of a more carefully blank mask. "'This time'-?" he reiterated, his voice more carefully deadpan than confused.

Cloud's anger continued to roil, but now confusion was threading its way into his frazzled mind-set. His teeth flashed again as he pointed the Buster sword's tip at the other, decidedly letting his anger formulate his next words, "Like you can't remember me throwing your psycho ass into a reactor core? I originally pegged ya the type that wouldn't ever forget someone _handing your own ass _to you."

"Oh?" Sephiroth replied coolly, non-plussed. "You did?"

"Yeah. _I did,_" He snarled through gritted teeth, twitching his lips in a mock smirk.

Sephiroth meanwhile only "Hmmf"ed at him and lifted his blade; the over-long daikatana humming as it tasted the air. His feet moved into position, his feline eyes slitted in expectation.

"How about," he almost purred, his modulated tone lower now. "You try to refresh my memory?"

There wasn't any other warning beyond that; not a blink, a sound, or twitch of his muscle. Only a resonating song of steel and flash of pallored crescents carving their deadly dances into the air, his speed and grace nothing less than god-like.

Cloud could barely bring up the heavy tungsten of the Buster sword in time just before the infamous Masamune could find its mark. Prepared as he was, even Cloud Strife could do more than barely block the man's sudden flurry beyond that initial move. It seemed the mad-man had thrown himself at Cloud in this instance.

A resonating auralescent cacophony echoed across the large room; Cloud and Sephiroth cuffing and cutting at each other's necks like mad hounds clawing for the other's vitals. The others were merely in the way, and they weren't dumb enough to near the pair as they swung and sliced indiscriminately.

Sephiroth was a whirling, flying wet-dream of quasar vertices. Cloud a softer, yet harsher curl of Herculean might and heavy-handed hurricane wrath. The two pushed and leaped from the other's momentum in a hyper-slash melee from Hell; their gravitational weight drawing in the eyes of all in that room like the infinite pull of a black hole.

Sephiroth's one-two slashes came often; unpredictable, _deliberate_. It was play-time for him; but Cloud thought otherwise. He heaved and jettisoned off the floor and flowed like a torrent in an effort to meet Sephiroth; his ample strength a pleasant surprise. This said, Sephiroth shifted and shimmered like liquid mercury; his attacks increasing in frequency and force all the same. He eagerly met Cloud's more unrefined, heavier strikes; although the smaller man was by no means a pushover.

Yuffie meanwhile whined quite loudly, "_Dude_, I'm so not getting in the middle of that!"

Red shrugged his shaggy shoulders, marveling at the poetic twist and twirl of blade versus blade. Mutely, he was appreciating the olden song and dance of this clash; the stuff of his grandfather's tales. Still, he had mixed feelings about his inability to lend a paw.

Tifa pursed her lips and cursed softly, and then glanced piteously at Aerith next to her. The flower girl flustered about, looking ready to draw upon the power of her materia to aid Cloud should something go wrong. Barret muttered expletives beside Tifa, every single word breathed not at all able to relieve the man's helpless frustration. He looked all to eager for an opportunity to open up; jerking every time the swordsmen parted.

Cloud again pushed off Sephiroth with the employed weight of the Buster sword, leaping back to gain a semblance of a breather. His arm glowed warningly; and its sadly a tell of his intention to use his own materia. Sephiroth was able to see what's coming and closed their distance of a few measly meters in just a breath; his lips curled in snide mirth. Cloud wasn't unprepared at least; he saw this coming in actuality, and met the Masamune's low sweeping slice in earnest. The thinner blade easily cut through the floor and released its pent-up energy in a searing series of hyper-sonic waves; barreling after Cloud in missile-like fashion.

Cloud brought his blade to bear and cut each in turn, feeling the accelerated adrenaline-high roar through his veins in a glorious tandem with his own movements. Endangered as he was, he felt _alive _in essence; completely calm in the glaring eye of the all-encompassing typhoon. His earlier anger had simmered into a roiling boil, but he tamed it with cool control. He moved back towards his intended foe; completely, _worriedly_ at ease with this one-on-one sword contest.

Why did he feel like this anyway? Wasn't he not so long ago uneasy about confronting the man alone?

Suddenly, he didn't expect Sephiroth to just jump out of the way at his next attack. The nimble foe leapt gracefully onto one of catwalks above the hearth; his smile suddenly gone. The platinum haired man's eyes were zeroed onto a single spot behind the group, his glare flashing. He said nothing at first, but then he twirled a wrist and sent a volley of rent air thundering over behind the lot.

Aerith and Yuffie briefly screamed and moved aside, but Sephiroth hadn't aimed for them at all. Cloud wouldn't admit it that day, but even _he _cringed at the motion. He'd seriously thought the daft ex-SOLDIER was trying to hit the two girls for a second there. He wouldn't have been fast enough to stop him otherwise.

"Shadows," He began, his tone cryptic. "They have eyes."

"The fuck is he on about now!" Barret seethed.

Sephiroth lifted his head and blinked, almost as if disoriented. It was an alien emotion on his face; as if a significant brain-wave was hitting him. He managed to shrug it off quickly however, his scowl deepening.

"Mother," he breathed loftily, inclining his head. "I feel them here... The failures, the deceivers. One stands plainly before me, but hides in a shroud of lies; feeding himself his delusions. The other concealed in darkness, a cowardly husk with death stalking close behind. What should I do with them? Are they not invited?"

"The fuck?" Cloud and Barret sputtered in unison. The group exchanged looks amongst them as well, shrugging back and forth.

Sephiroth dazedly regarded whatever abnormal thought invaded his warped mind, but then arrested his semi-passive stare onto AVALANCHE next. "A gift," he began. "She says to leave you all a gift. How thoughtful of her." His smile slid into existence next; corrosive enough to scorch the earth and frigid enough to freeze lava, "Interesting. It seems she wants to give you two a chance."

_Two-? _Cloud pondered.

"Ah, but first-" Sephiroth suddenly commented lazily.

Said ex-Soldier then scanned the room, his gaze calculating. He wasn't watching them anymore now; his predatory scowl was dead-locked onto some invisible target they couldn't find. He lazily migrated down the catwalk, paused, and then hovered down in one fluid motion. He drew his sword, and then sliced right at the left-hand corner of the room with liquid ease.

A flash; and then a resonating _ring _penetrated the enraptured attentions of almost all in that room. Sephiroth however only smiled, knowing his strike had been true. Cloud blinked, and then felt that haunted sensation melt away as he took in a pair of newcomers that have _apparently been in the room with them all along_.

One was the copper-haired Turk girl from earlier; although he wasn't surprised to see her so much to be honest. Of course this girl would follow Aerith to make sure she was safe; that's just what they did for a living. However, he didn't know how she's been able to cloak herself this entire time. Cloud's guess was materia of some kind, but then he put the girl aside when he took in her defending compatriot:

This guy, well, he was something else _entirely_.

Standing almost a head taller than Cloud himself; draped in riveted black and steel-colored camo like a shifting shadow of various shades, he was certainly imposing. The man was even almost Sephiroth's height; and matched his muscle mass to boot. Like some sort of cryptic vanguard heralding a grand battle, his intimidating and protective form almost eclipsed the tiny Turk standing behind him utterly.

He had a long-sword drawn; having deliberately placed himself between girl and offender in an effort to shield her. His blade stood firm and glittered in the orange lighting of the fire-room, rigged with a sapphire-colored orb in its pommel. He lowered the blade and sheathed it in one greased motion; but he didn't remove his gauntlet covered hands from behind his back. It's safe to presume he had other weapons stashed away on his person.

Sephiroth's smile was a leer now, his cruel gaze a lit with intrigue. "Interesting. 'Shadows' indeed," he began. "And why would one such as you have to conceal himself? Clearly you're no stranger to a blade."

The dark-hooded man didn't respond. His face was almost completely covered too: Cloud took in the sight of the respirator mask and lowered gaze; the cowl casting a stark shadow over the man's cleverly concealed eyes. Literally not an _inch _of this man's skin or general features can be seen.

The girl stepped out from behind him, her face crinkled and bold. If she were afraid, she certainly didn't show it with a small but stern tone, "You. You're not really Sephiroth at all, are you?"

AVALANCHE was sharing looks between them at this, and then turned towards the aforementioned individual.

Sephiroth's lips lessened, but he didn't respond to the query. Cloud thought the guy ambivalent as a result of their stinted interaction; but now he was deliberately acting like he had selective hearing. Something certainly wasn't right here.

_But he fought like the real deal! _said one voice. And yet another however stated that Sephiroth's lack of reaction towards Cloud personally was another glaring warning sign of some other hidden complication. Moreover, he _did _deliberately let the others escape him in his initial siege of the ship- something the real Sephiroth most likely wouldn't have let pass. The man was nothing, if not thorough.

When no one spoke for the next moment, Sephiroth shattered the oppressive silence with a mirthless and rather dismissive chuckle. So he said, "Hmmf. I suppose now is the time to give you Mother's gift."

He suddenly drew out a vile from underneath the lapel of his long trench-coat, no longer than his own thumb and swirling the tar-colored substance within. His musicians fingers delicately held the tiny jar by its lid, the grip rather carelessly loose.

"I think," he said, his smile false. "-You'll all find this quite entertaining. Although, I suppose it right to ask if the puppets will live long enough to see the day our Mother arrives to bear us her real gift. Her reunion is meant for _all_ her children after all- even her _failures_."

Just then, his baleful eyes shone as true and tried cruelty bled from within his rancid core. His scowl met each individual in turn; his eyes skipping past Cloud and the masked man. Yuffie gulped audibly not too far away while Red's growl deepened when his gaze swept past them.

"-Your company however, they do not have the honor of being invited," he drawled, his lowered tone a razor splicing through their very beings; a corrupted archangel damning their wretched souls with soured condemnation.

And so he dropped it; the tiny jar hitting the metal floor with a resounding, penetrating _crack_.

Despite the liquid appearance of the mystery substance at first, it retained its jar-like form even as the glass fell away; behaving more like jell-o as it bounced and jiggled. However, this tame, mundane appearance began to melt away; and the black shape started to _shift_. It got bigger, at first. And then, it got ugly.

_Very, _horribly, sinfully ugly.

The black color was leeched away; turning into various shades of puke and flesh and everything else in between. It continued to grow in size, swelling like some shapeless balloon that continued to inflate at a rate that frightened every set of eyes locked onto it. It lifted higher and higher, and then suddenly this thing evolved into a mutated mega-mountain of discolored filth before them.

Sephiroth smiled placidly at the sight, and then shifted: Cloud watched in mute horror as a single coal-colored wing erupted from the platinum haired man's right side, outstretched and unfurled at its greatest length almost _twice_ its owner's height. The suddenly angelic intruder lazily flapped it once; and it effortlessly lifted him into air. In just a blink, the silver-haired madman was swiftly past the group and splicing his way through the door before anyone could breathe a word.

Gone. Just like that.

Still, Cloud knew he'll have to guess where he's gone later; when he didn't have a huge, _disgusting _mound of _HOLY-FUCK-WHAT-THE-HELL-IS-THAT _right in front of him. Whatever Sephiroth did beyond leaving the hold was beyond him now.

Cloud however wasn't stupid; nor was Red and the cloaked stranger. They didn't wait to see what this thing finished becoming: These three were the first of them all to charge up their strongest equipped spells and threw matched fireballs at the thing. The latter however threw a _freaking flaming knife _at its supposed mush of a head; where it lodged and ignited into a grandiose dragon-fire sun-burst that threw sparks of ash and embers in a glowing rain. The shapeless thing, whatever it was, actually gurgled a scream unlike any other.

"AW come on!" Yuffie suddenly ejaculated. "Now I want one too!"

Taking the idea, all of AVALANCHE and the Turk all tried to help by shooting at the pulpy mess with both spell, pinwheel and gun; but almost nothing worked. The exception was Aerith's spells being empowered by her natural spirituality of course, but even then all it did was slow this thing's growth.

Despite the onslaught, it rose higher, a grand stinking wall of _foul_ odor great enough to drop even a bull Dual-horn bombarding them. It choked the group like another hot sweaty body pressing itself against their flesh. It resembled Malboro-breath; carrion inter-mingled with the wet odor of hot, sun-baked piss, decay, and burnt flesh from their earlier attack. Once it gained its fullest height, it towered over each member of AVALANCHE (plus two) with behemoth ease.

Its sheer weight tilted the cargo ship; the vessel groaning warningly as it pitched forward towards the bow. On a side note, weight distribution was a strong factor in keeping ships sailing straight; so it meant this abomination had to killed _fast_. It was bad enough Cloud foresaw a problem with fighting this thing on a slanted, blood-slicked floor.

As it was, this contorted array of masses that were meant to pass as 'limbs' supported the Hell-born amalgamation were the thickness of tree trunks. These _limbs _were a rippling, boneless tendrils of sinewy flesh that bounced and flailed in every direction. The torso was relative, but tiny; in a distinct shape that was vaguely reminiscent of a woman's figure. The 'face' was a ghoulish monstrosity that stretched like putty; unhinged and gaping and eye-less.

The glaive was still embedded in its gnarly skull; slowly searing away at the burnt region. As Cloud noted the detail, he caught from the corner of his eye the mystery man holding out his right arm, pause, and a green materia blinked in his limb. The fiery weapon suddenly thrummed into life and retracted itself from the misbegotten monster; _flying right back into its owner's hand_. With style, he spun it to snuff the crimson flames, drawing a matching knife from his left side next.

_Okay. That's kinda awesome, _Cloud reluctantly admitted.

"Show-off," Barret muttered nearby.

Meanwhile, the hideous new head-wound didn't stop the sight-less creature from somehow seeing them; as it threw forward a muscly limb in a side swipe to knock them all down like bowling pins. Cloud warned them all to duck and threw himself on the less swift of them; Yuffie, who could only flounder about in helpless shock. The girl was already sick enough; between the boat's rocking, the surrounding bodies and their expelled fluids, and the rolling of their enemy's voluminous musk. The poor teenager heaved as Cloud collided with her; prompted to vomit out sour bile and hot air.

"Stay here," Cloud sharply commanded, knowing the girl was in no shape to fight.

Yuffie couldn't protest; merely "_Ulp_"in reply and curl on herself, wiping her mouth.

Cloud rose back up and threw out his arm; an energized shock lancing through his body as he unleashed his other spell. Unfortunately, the thunder spell was a mere repeat of his last attempt; failed in every aspect of the word. The spiking arcs could only briefly burn the creature's leathery hide before fizzling out in a wispy plume of stinking smoke. He hadn't had the materia long enough for it be as effective as he hoped.

Said creature had spells of its own: From its mushy face where its eyes should've been, a beam of pure light zeroed onto the raging nuisance that was Barret. Barret had the instinct to dodge; sputtering expletives each time he was forced to move. He drew himself up and kept on peppering the thing in bullet spray; relentless in his attack.

Red stuck to spells after this one hiccup; he tried attacking with his claws initially, but its seemingly pliable body refused to take damage from physical blows. He got stuck once, but managed to save himself. Tifa wasn't much better off either for that matter; but using the Enemy Skill materia's spells seemed to help her out some.

Aerith though, her elevated sense of aforementioned spirituality enabled her an adept sense of understanding; borderline physic in her case. Even her weak ice attacks were a mini-storm; and she was able to stay well away from the grasping thing despite the compromised size of the room. Her small stature paid off; she moved whenever Barret and Red occupied its attention; and then focused on keeping her comrades healthy with their little, weak, under-developed cure materia. Giving her this crystallized spell had been a good idea admittedly.

Cloud stayed near her though; just in case. Aerith wasn't much of a fighter; despite her odd, even contradictory amount of skill in various magics. The girl wasn't even a well-practiced and diligent mage, and yet she was proficient and effective. This trait made her a target in most cases; and this was something Cloud learned early on made her _vulnerable_.

The creature gurgled; the noise akin to bubbling mud and sputtering tar pits. Now Cloud didn't know if this thing was intelligent or not, seeing how all it did at first was throw parts and pieces of itself around. However, as luck would have it, this thing _did _have a brain: Rudimentary in its function maybe, but shockingly receptive to logic when it seemed to identify the real nuisance in this battle.

It bowed its ghastly head, jerked it, and then _Aerith stopped dead in place_.

The girl was frozen; paralyzed by whatever time spell the creature had conjured up. Her fae-green eyes swiveled helplessly around in their sockets, and a muffled _"Hmmmrf" _escaped her. As the ship ducked and pitched, the girl toppled over without a twitch in any of her stiffened muscles.

Capitalizing on the opportunity, the creature threw another limb at her; but missed thankfully. Cloud's being near her since the battle began had been a blessing: He brought her up onto the catwalk where he _hoped _it was safer; avoiding the lower levels of the ship seeing how busy with through traffic it became. He couldn't unfreeze her; he just didn't have the materia. All he could do was set her aside like some precious piece of marble art; feeling awkward by the semi-rough handling.

"Sorry," he told her.

He suspected she'd nod at him if she could; he did see her eyes soften though.

He turned his attention towards the battle, now at a loss. He knew his insane strength plus the Buster sword would have an easier time of severing elephantine flesh than his allies attacks; but that involved leaving Aerith here until she unfroze. Considering her mental focus though, he suspected she wouldn't be frozen for long-

Or at least until this masked stranger decided on helping, which he did; much to Cloud's abject shock. The man had managed to get his enigmatic ass up here at some point; although Cloud hadn't recalled when. He stooped down and held out a glowing arm; and then Aerith was moving again.

_He has Haste materia on him! _was Cloud's quick assumption.

"AH! Thank you, the both of you," Aerith breathed, trying to regain her footing.

The cloaked man said nothing, of course. Cloud was starting to think that was simply his thing; like he was a mute or something. Whatever the case, the individual turned and drew his glaives once again, his broad-shouldered appearance casting a great shadow on the diminutive girl trying to regain her feet.

Nearby, the Turk girl was coming to join the three, her breathing audible as she made her way over. She turned to the stranger and then flashed a couple of hand-signals; their meaning lost to Aerith and Cloud. The man nodded, but not before a distorted grunt of resignation echoed from his unseen mouth. He sheathed the glaives with great reluctance though.

_A command to stand down... _Cloud quickly surmised.

He furrowed his brows next, but put it aside when the Turk girl said, "Aerith? You're not hurt are you?"

The other shook her head, drawing herself up to her full height. It was just enough to allow her to look down on the Turk. "I'm fine," she replied almost shakily. She looked down at herself and shook her head however, noting the curling trails of drying blood on her frumpy clothes. She didn't recall rolling into a puddle, but there it was; staining her uniform in great blotches.

She shivered, putting on her bravest face as she asked, "Y-you're not here to stop me from helping my friends though, are you?"

Rusty-hair smiled; Cloud noting the strained quality about it. "Me personally? No. I'm only making sure your health is assured; nothing more."

Aerith pursed her lip at this, but didn't argue.

As for the Turk, she turned towards the masked stranger and seemed to consider something, and then back towards Cloud surprisingly enough. "I'd like to ask something of you, if you'll allow me," she neutrally inquired.

Cloud scoffed at her in answer.

Rusty-hair ignored it, quickly breathing out in a rush, "How quickly do you think you can kill it, if given the chance?"

"What, can't get your dog to do it?" He flicked his head at the man, not forgetting how the two seemed rather tactically close-knit. The man had also seemed quite willing to draw his matched blades; only to be stopped not seconds later by this girl. For what reason though was what made Cloud suspicious.

The Turk huffed at him; but it wasn't in frustration. It was a sigh; and it betrayed an important detail to Cloud despite the lack of words- That apparently said subject couldn't do what the blond could.

"Cloud," Aerith harrumphed beside him. "Be nice! At least hear her out! They're only trying to help."

Said individual almost sheepishly rubbed at his scalp; but caught himself before he indulged in the notion. He instead turned back towards the Turk. "You have a plan?" He cautiously entreated.

"Of sorts," she cryptically replied. The girl returned her attention to the shadow-man, her stare carefully blank. "Use the time materia on the monster; it should be strong enough to stop it and give Cloud the chance to finish it off."

Cloud let his stare slide over to the shifty stranger next, but saw no reaction beyond a vague nod and the squaring of his huge shoulders. Aerith did the same as well, the woman warily regarding the man with some guarded reverence. She sidled a touch closer to Cloud; as if unsure of how dangerous the nameless man was.

The big man placed a heavy boot on the railing, lifting his right arm again to ready the spell. Cloud drew the Buster sword to bear; feeling his muscles tighten with expectancy. When he turned his fullest attention on the battle next though, he couldn't help that little sickening drop in his gut when he noted the creature turning its attention to the floundering Yuffie.

To her credit, the girl had done well to avoid the monster up until this point; although she hadn't exactly been able to stay on her feet for long periods of time due to the incline in the slippery blood-splattered floor. Worse yet, the tube-born spawn was naturally resistant to whatever attack Yuffie had hurled its way; her pinwheel simply falling short in the grand scheme of things. Seeing her limited mobility, the enormous mountain of animated flesh suddenly launched another light beam at that very second; too fast for anyone to stop it.

It was a knee-jerk reaction. No thinking was involved; no planning, no strategy.

Cloud pushed all his weight into the rail to leap into the fray, Aerith gasping right behind him-

-Red came to stand in front of Yuffie in an effort to shield her; every tooth in his muzzle bared for all to see-

-The black-coated stranger beside him balled his fist; grasping a hand on fate itself-

-And then this transient, white barrier blinked into existence; glittering like a full harvest moon shining on the darkest night of the year.

Red and Yuffie stood stock still; the girl recovered enough to notice the emerging shield stop the attack. Her expression shifted from green-faced terror into pallored, wide-eyed awe. She gawped openly as the enormous barrier seemed to _absorb _the creature's energy; sucking it in like a greedy gravitational vortex. The white shield briefly grew brighter; and then it exploded outward in a livid, novic tidal surge that lanced across the creature's gelatinous form. Holy star-burns opened up across its distorted body; searing away at it like the crust of a planet whose come too close to a dying star.

The enraged creature stretched wide its exaggerated, gaping maw to gargle out a scream. Limbs threw themselves every which ways; but Red and Yuffie were able to dodge away to a safe distance along the boiler-room wall.

Cloud gave the man another look, actually amazed (and inwardly grateful) by the impressive show of strength: Only to see the man was just as surprised by the display as everyone else was; as well as _plainly, perversely exhausted _by the swift defense. He was looking at his arm distractedly for a second, and then he was suddenly slouched over with a hand on his chest; his distorted breathing ragged.

_Like, what the fuck. That's just one spell! Why's he tired so damn quick-?_

_...Is this why the Turk stopped him?_

The anomaly was certainly a shock; the man apparently didn't know how much power the spell drew from him and he under-estimated its delivery. Moreover, his pained posture was glaring enough to draw Aerith and Rusty-hair's attentions. Both women were eyeing the stranger with varying degrees of concern; the latter being more readily guarded. She strode forward and placed a hand on his back, trying to gaze into his shadowed face.

Cloud could only stare, actually momentarily forgetting the now _infuriated _monster drawing upon its last reserves of strength. When it gargled again though, he was forced to push aside that observation and regained his focus.

Next to him, the nameless rogue recovered from his stupor and and raised his arm again, gently pushing the Turk behind him. Another green materia glowed; Cloud waiting for the just the right chance to open itself up. _At least this guy recovered fast enough, _he thought.

Below him, Tifa and Barret had reasonably moved aside; stopping their conjoined attack when the shield first appeared. The duo made it over to Yuffie and their four-legged companion, ducking away as the creature sent more flailing limbs this way and that. The slew of opening wounds from the brief scuffle had enraged it by now; each injury tearing steadily more with each half-hazard movement. Cloud decided to take the advantage of its misery and prepared for the big leap:

The man's arm glowed with emerald fire; and then he bowed over on one leg and braced himself. His right arm flashed forward; and a tremulous shock clapped like thunder.

The amalgamation froze in place; helpless to the advanced stop spell the stranger casted. Frozen as it was, its immense form rippled as it fought the vice. It wouldn't stay that way for long. Cloud kept this in mind as he pushed off from the catwalk; throwing himself at the creature with a prodigious war-cry.

He jumped onto the creature's head; plunging the Buster sword into the wound made by the flaming glaive earlier. He twisted the over-sized sword, and _yanked _for all he's worth. The creature's deformed head caved in with buttered ease; unlike the rest of it. Still Cloud kept moving; removing the Buster sword and throwing all his weight into the next decisive swing-

The devil's cleaver carved into the open crevasse that had been the monster's head; and then he pulled the blade down with gravity on his side. He split the titanic spawn in half- its discolored innards a blackened spray of wriggling gore. Each part, each organ; curling in on itself like some dreadful witch's curse being lifted. The ebon blood spurted into the air, but then fizzled and evaporated like ash caught in a harsh wind.

The monster toppled; shrinking as it withered into a shriveled parody of itself. Cloud of course felt like quite the bad-ass when he landed on one slightly bent knee, his sword looking rather pristine despite the messy attack. He drew himself up just as the creature vanished like a bad nightmare.

_Cool guys don't look back_, he thought, although he couldn't quite remember who told him these words. This too was a memory he couldn't scratch up; but ignored no less for the moment.

He came to his friends and felt a cocky grin suddenly tug at his usually stiff lips; a gesture he let slip as Tifa shot over to him and smiled widely. Barret guffawed beside her; Yuffie shot him a thumbs-up from her bent position by the wall. Aerith bounced up and down like an excited school-girl on the cat-walk above them all, clapping her hands at Cloud. Red padded up and walked a half-circle around his legs, bumping him lightly with his shoulder.

"Not bad," he told him evenly.

"Not bad yourself," Cloud cheekily admitted. He thought the furry friend reliable; but after today, he had no more doubts. It was nice to see the creature willing to defend someone like Yuffie when no one else had been any quicker. It was a relief in some ways.

"Guys, look!"

Tifa was pointing behind Cloud now; right back where the creature had been standing. Cloud felt his gut knot up again when he realized this, but he turned nonetheless.

There, on the blood-caked floor was a pile of blackened mush; flesh that for some reason or another, was shaped like _somebody's dismembered arm_. It was long and thin; discolored, boneless and quite feminine. It had fingers, but the digits weren't doing well to maintain their form. It flaked apart in some areas; like ashes from a burnt log.

Yet, as Cloud looked on, he knew that wherever it originated from hadn't been human at some point. His gut told him so, and he didn't doubt it for a second.

The copper-haired girl, alongside her apparent partner had gotten down from the cat-walk during their brief exchange of words. Aerith trailed along behind them but then bee-lined it for Cloud and the others as soon as her feet touched the floor. Tifa reached out and drew her in with sisterly care, brushing some of her reddish-chestnut bangs out of her sweaty face.

"You okay?"

"I'm okay," the Cetra softly replied. "You?"

Tifa hummed, smiling at her and withdrawing.

As for the Turk, she carefully made her way over to the now inanimate limb; giving it a hard once-over. Her face shifted into something like a scowl, which didn't suit her usually mild-mannered expression.

"What is it?" Tifa asked, forgetting her hatred of all things Shinra for the moment as she looked to Rust-hair.

The Turk's button nose crinkled thoughtfully at first. And then, "I... I dunno. I think it belonged to Hojo at some point, but... I'm not sure."

Barret spat off to the side pointedly, waving a fist around briefly. "Didn't this thing look like jello not that long ago? Why's it an arm now?"

The girl shook her head again, clearly at a loss.

"I wonder what's Sephiroth doing with it?" Tifa mused aloud.

"The Hell if I know!" The grizzled man puffed up.

"I wasn't asking you..."

Red strode forward and stopped short as well, taking a few cursory sniffs from a safe distance of two whole meters. He looked up at the still un-named Turk and said, "You know, I could've sworn I've seen this in his lab before, now that you mention it. Although, not in the glass form Sephiroth was carrying it in."

The Turk moved away from it, crossing her arms with one hand moving to her chin in consternation, "If that specter really _was _him, then, what's he doing alive? And moreover, why would he need something from Hojo's laboratory? What's he after-?"

Cloud bent down and inspected the blackened limb himself, but then felt his breath catch sharply in his throat. His mind wheeled; a flash blipping briefly into existence before ultimately fading to obscurity. He jerked back to an up-right position and moved away, feeling queasiness set in. The name came to him easily; and it left him befuddled and ill.

_**Jenova**_**.**

A hand went to his bare arm; right below his tensed shoulder. The velveteen touch abruptly snapped him out of his hypnotic daze.

"Cloud?" Aerith's delicate fingers ghosted on his bicep, her gentle eyes arrested on his own blue pair. "Are you alright?"

The blond dazedly shook his head again and looked between she and the innocuous arm; his confusion a fog that was gently swept away by Aerith's calming presence. He managed a solid nod and turned to her, "Yeah. I think... I think I remembered seeing this thing somewhere else before too."

"Oh?"

He nodded with profound surety, "Hmm. See, if I'm remembering it right, it belonged to a uh, what was it... 'Jenova'? Maybe? If that's its name."

"Ya mean that weird headless spook we saw in Shinra tower?" Barret asked, his gruff bass suddenly smaller.

"That's the one!" Cloud nodded, wondering why in the bloody Hell he knew that. It was an intrusive observation; but one he knew he had no answer for. And sadly, he had to put aside that strange thought for another time.

_More troubling, _he frowned, crossing his arms. _This thing was in Nibelheim at some point. Did Hojo have it moved to Midgar for a reason? Why __**is **__Sephiroth carrying a piece of it around?_

_And... seriously, his behavior was just... off. Shouldn't he have recognized Tifa and I? Why didn't he go after everyone on this ship? It hasn't stopped him from going after everyone else in Nibelheim before._

Nonetheless, Jenova's name elicited an actual reaction from the cloaked man standing a ways away from the group; trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. He was quietly leaned up against the port-side wall recovering his spent energy; his wheezing breath rather loudly audible through his respirator mask. He lifted his carefully cowled head a tad, his almond-shaped eyes finally visible enough for the blond to catch.

They accidentally caught each other's lurid gaze; the well-matched hues almost a mirror to Cloud's own. Both men continued to stare each other down with animistic wariness; thoughts and feelings swirling and clashing together as the two shared this one, jarring brain-wave:

His eyes weren't shuttered windows at all; but wide-open doors to a hastily-shielded core. And he couldn't seem to slam them shut quick enough yet. He, despite his layers of clothes and whatever lies he's shrouded himself with, could never hide what he felt with hungry eyes like his.

_No wonder he's kept his head ducked this entire time._

The man suddenly realized that their gazes were locked for too long, lowering his head just enough so that the cowl blocked his distinguishable stare. His hands twitched at his sides, as if in need to clench just to flex out the stress. He settled for slumping more heavily against the metal wall, a huff escaping him as he slowly and tiredly slid to the floor. He propped his arms on his knees, and let out a series of controlled breaths.

There was no mistaking it- Although his eyes may have been ringed with old darkness, a minute _glow _emanated from them- _A SOLDIER trademark._

Cloud also learned one other thing about the stranger just from this one significant glance alone: Turks didn't give away visual cues with eyes like this guy; and this fact concreted that he wasn't a Turk to Cloud. And it wasn't just because he wasn't wearing the uniform either- He just _couldn't be _one of them.

But, he couldn't be a SOLDIER either. Wouldn't he have fought just as Cloud had if that were the case? Was he somehow injured? If he were, why was he even here anyways? Why was he being all stealthy anyhow? That wasn't SOLDIER's M.O.

_It just doesn't make any sense!_

Cloud didn't know what to make of him; he was simply too confused by the strange occurrences of his busy day as it was. All of this was made worse by the fact that he too was now profoundly exhausted himself.

A yawn crept up out of nowhere; reminding him of what the time was. He should've been in a bunk by now if all this bull-shit hadn't happened. He'd been up since before dawn this morning trying to prepare for their infiltration onto the boat.

Nearby, the Turk girl mosied on over to one of the open boxes of coal bolted down to the floor; picking up a small hand-shovel that's been carelessly thrown into the bin. She turned the object over, and then turned towards AVALANCHE and the masked man on the opposite wall.

"I'm going to see what I can do here," she told them. "We'll be at the Costa Del Sol in the next six or so hours; so I'd recommend you guys get your disguises back on and get out of here. Maybe find a spot to rest in; as long as its not in the hold."

"Da fuck?" Barret punched a fist out at her. "Yo! You ain't no damn boss of us! The Hell you think-"

"Do you want me to keep quiet about what happened here, or not?" she coolly inquired, interrupting the bear-sized man before he could go onto one of his pissy tangents.

Cloud could already feel a migraine coming on as a result of it. He still never got quite used to Barret's blabbering.

When said man decidedly shut up though, the Turk went on, "Okay then. Make sure Aerith's face in particular is concealed. We don't need Rufus deciding on taking advantage of your exhaustion to try kid-napping her."

"Not like he can get anywhere," Tifa stiffly added. "We're out in the middle of the ocean!"

Rust-hair shrugged, "That won't stop him from throwing you guys over-board; he has enough men for that, believe it or not."

"Doubt it," Yuffie rudely jabbed, but she clammed up and bent down again; dry-heaving as her motion-sickness took over.

Red sat lazily on his haunches and tossed a lazy glance at the mystery man, his expression pensive. It seemed he was just as interested in him as Cloud was. Whatever the case, the quadruped shook his head and turned to the others, his scholar's voice surprisingly snapping everyone's attentions to him.

"Maybe, we _should_ make ourselves scarce," he said. "I haven't the energy to deal with Rufus' remaining men should they finally decide to come down here."

"...Why haven't they done so?" Tifa pondered aloud.

The Turk sighed, and then, "Because protecting Rufus takes precedence. Think about it: the first class SOLDIER that went to deal with the problem hasn't come back up yet to inform anyone of what's happened. So, they're all reasonably too frightened to come down to inspect the hold-"

"They'd much rather stay near Rufus than throw their lives away trying to check whether or not their strongest guard survived," Cloud interjected to conclude the conversation. He was too tired to keep his eyes open now.

"Exactly," the Turk nodded. "He's taking too long to report in, so of course no one's coming down yet."

Aerith nibbled her lips again, and then asked, "Cissnei. Aren't you going to report this to Shinra? They know you're on board, but... not _him_." She inclined her head towards the huffing stranger, her gaze worried.

_Of course Aerith knows her name. I wouldn't be shocked if they spoke to each other at some point for some ungodly reason_, Cloud sardonically realized. _But like, why is that even a thing? Wouldn't that mean the Turks civically interacted with Aerith before this whole kid-napping thing?_

The Turk, Cissnei, blinked and smiled wanly. She shook her head in assurance, "Don't worry about it. Once you guys are out of the way, I'll tell them what's happened then. As for him-" She glanced back at the cloaked stranger, who continued sitting passively on the floor opposite her. "He's resting. And, he's not your enemy, so don't worry about him either."

"Why?" Aerith pressed. "Isn't he Shinra?"

Cloud snapped his attention over to the Turk, wondering if she'll relent. Sadly, she did no such thing; merely smiling her enigmatic smile and turning away. _Its to be expected_, was his aggravated thought.

Cissnei meanwhile threw the shovel back into the crate and then walked towards the arm on the floor again; primly dusting her hands off on her already dirty tux. She took out a medium-sized baggie from a pocket inside her uniform too; the thing was filled with small bottles, a pair of tiny white gloves, and blank labels with various tools in them. She opened it, took out what she needed for the sampling, and gloved herself.

Unfortunately, when she so much as gingerly _tapped _the limb, it disintegrated as a whole; leaving nothing but a pile of charcoal-colored dust. Surprised, the girl confusedly blinked and hummed at it, wrinkling her nose. Still, she resumed her work and delicately manged to fill one of the bottles with the ashen remains; drawing herself back up and safely tucking it away for later investigation. She removed her gloves and placed them in a empty bag she withdrew from the other side of her tux.

Once Cissnei stashed both baggies away, she crossed her arms while placing a hand on her chin. After a second, she moved over to the masked man and stopped beside him to speak to him in low tones. He jerked a head at the sound of her mellowed tone; as if he'd been in a daze when she came to bother him. He didn't lift it much, but he did nod and then swung back to his full height, moving briskly past the group and out into the hold.

Cloud frowned after him, never removing his eyes from him as he heard the Turk say next, "You guys get out of here. Be sure to stay out of sight for the rest of the ride."

No one said anything to that, but there wasn't anything else to elaborate on anyhow. Not to mention that exhaustion was catching up with them all at this point.

So Cloud moved over to lead the others back out towards their stashed items, leaving the suspicious Turk behind. He did see the masked man return to the boiler room with a back-pack in hand; catching the obnoxious _clang _it made as he sat back down into his previous position. Cloud lifted a brow at this, but it wasn't like he was going to stay to ask questions he knew he wouldn't get answers too.

Red subtly bumped his leg again; catching the blond's glance towards the pair and sharing in his mute reverie. The two levelly passed mutual expressions of disquiet as they went, wondering why and what was the deal with the mystery man in their midst. For now though, Cloud decided to shelve the troubling development for another day.

After all, his comrades and his promises made to protect them came first.


	6. Anxious Heart

**God how I hated writing this. I swear I've been over this thing a million and one times already. Its also been done for days technically, but I deliberately kept it to re-read over to see how different it felt the next time I went through it. Needless to say, I kept altering dialogue and shortened it several times.**

**The next one will better. This I promise.**

* * *

~777~

The following morning, the Maritime Freighter barely managed to weigh anchor at the Costa Del Sol docks; making it before its apparently flooded bilges could finish what Sephiroth started.

It was a close ride; seeing how the ship was damaged from the aforementioned mad-man's chaotic rampage that night. Between the monster he unleashed, his reckless slicing and cutting of almost every single standing object in his way, the displacement of every heavy article keeping the vessel straight; its been nothing but a nautical nightmare for the surviving sailors. As icing on the cake, the monster had apparently rent the metal floor with its oddly ionized magics; piercing the hull and boring holes the size of cookie cutters in numerous places.

Every hand on deck had to help keep the thing afloat; Zack, Cissnei, Cloud and his disguised brethren included. The former had to stay cloaked though; but he tried his best to help whenever Cissnei told him he could. The pair did what they could get away with in secrecy.

Rufus wasn't above getting his hands dirty too it seemed; he went all across the ship, over-seeing the proceedings and assisting if necessary. Granted, he didn't do much, but it said enough to Zack just what kind of man he could be if he wasn't such a self-absorbed, manipulative Shinra brat.

Opinions aside, Heidegger did _nothing _except yell and punch people when he felt progress was too slow.

_So... Why hasn't Rufus fired him yet? _the ex-SOLDIER couldn't help thinking when on one such instance Rufus gave Heidegger a glare that could've matched one of Sephiroth's. His scowl had been brief, but intense in its fleeting existence: So much so that many thought he'd fire the head of Public Safety right on the spot.

And on another, more baffling note; it seemed Tseng was correct in his theory regarding Cloud: The younger man had certainly demonstrated his herculean mettle and finished that battle with the monster in no less a grandiose way than Zack himself; both astounding and worrying the latter. Zack was certainly happy that Cloud seemed well; even physically more able despite his earlier condition.

But still, Zack worried for the blond. It's bad enough that Cloud had never demonstrated such skill and strength before his experimentation; and then suddenly he wakes up with more power than he knows what to do with. Zack couldn't help feeling that somehow, Cloud's newfound might was _more _than just an ill sign. He couldn't quite describe his sense of misgiving, but it certainly left a heavy sensation lodged in his heart and gut- and the feeling wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

Whatever the case, Zack should be happy he wasn't feeling sick anymore. After getting some medicine and air into him, he did feel marginally better. However, he and Cissnei hadn't been able to _sleep a wink _since when they left Fallen Feather Springs over a day ago. Both he and girl were too damn tired to deal with anything else right now. And between that and his earlier consternation regarding Cloud, he couldn't help his agitated state.

So yeah, he was _a little _grumpy on the side. But _just _a little.

When he disembarked, he cloaked alongside Cissnei and fell into step behind AVALANCHE. He kept a firm hold of the girl's slim wrist to avoid losing her too- Even though by now the two of them were somewhat clumsy with fatigue. If AVALANCHE hadn't been so exhausted as well, they probably would've noticed the noise they were making.

_Yup. Totally miss working over-time and not sleeping __**at all**__. Might as well ask Hendel for one of his caffeine patches_, Zack inwardly groused with a grimace.

..._Hell, I might start getting them myself._

Whatever the case, following Cloud wasn't necessary anymore; he seemed fully capable of defending both himself and Aerith. Still, Cissnei needed some info to relay to the next Turk on standby whenever she and Zack go to recover- That in turn led to them following Cloud's party for the moment. The Turks weren't called the 'Research' department for nothing after all.

Some few blocks away from the docks, Cloud and the others ducked away in the darkest, dodgiest places Costa Del Sol had to offer; trying to disappear. Still dressed as Shinra staff, they stopped in a claustrophobic, trash-can laden alley-way. Zack had a vague feeling that they were trying to ditch their invisible pursuers- Cloud and the canine thing certainly seemed restless enough. Granted, they didn't succeed in the endeavor; as they were just as exhausted as Zack and Cissnei.

_Totally not shifty at all, _the man sarcastically commented, but he knew the lot of them weren't thinking straight themselves at this point.

The morning sun's fragile light was unable to brighten the gloom; leaving the narrow passage shrouded in enough shadow to give them an illusionary semblance of privacy. Barret cursed when his ridiculously huge shoulders and pack he wore bumped both sides of the passage a few times, but he wasn't obnoxiously loud about it.

Apparently, he was tasked with carrying some of their heavier things while they traveled. Cloud had a large pack of his own, but it wasn't quite as large as Barret's. He had the Buster sword to toat around after all. The women traveled more lightly with pouches strapped to their middle, but Aerith also had a rather large metal rod in hand too. Zack intrusively thought it looked too heavy for her; but she's apparently been carrying it around for a while. She certainly knew how to navigate the tight space with it as it was.

_Must be a weapon of sorts_, he wondered, but he felt quite unsettled by the observation after surmising as much. Like seriously; Aerith? With a weapon? A gross part of him wanted to laugh; and another, significantly larger part fretted.

Red snuffled rather loudly around; obviously trying to keep a look-out but snorting with every ounce of fetid garbage he scented. He whined once and dragged a large paw over his muzzle.

At this, Cloud turned to the quadruped and asked, "Anything?"

"Not with the smell of someone's piss in my nose, no." He turned towards the blond with an annoyed expression, his frank answer surprising the latter. Red usually never cursed, always speaking in polite deference. "Too many people pass through here," he added somewhat hurriedly next. "We best be quick."

"Alright then," Cloud gestured, dropping his bag in one lazy motion.

His helmet came next; the blond shucking off with a huff and then dabbing at his sweaty forehead with his own uniform shirt. His expression matched the canine's, his brows pinched in a puckered frown. Exhaustion seeped from him in waves; but he still moved as if he wasn't bogged down by lack of sleep.

Tifa and Aerith slumped against the wall side-by-side, sighing in sheer fatigue whilst they shrugged off their helmets as Cloud had. Yuffie moaned exaggeratedly, fanning her face with her little sailor hat across from them. Barret carefully put the bag he wore down, mumbling something about the humidity.

Everyone then dipped their heads towards the blond; with the exception of said Wutian who muttered some unsavory words in her native language and blatantly ignored them. Cloud didn't acknowledge her; his attention was largely on his own likely turbulent thoughts.

So he said, his words clipped, "We can't stick here long. Last time I checked, Shinra owns a lot of business here; so we can't just check into any joint-" He folded his arms next, "We need to be doubly-sure of which one we're checking into; no matter how sketchy it seems. As long as we avoid any Shinra-owned buildings and stay in groups of two or three, avoiding this weird circus-y cluster-fuck we got goin', we should stay inconspicuous."

"Doubt it," Yuffie snarked. "I mean, look at us: We're like the beginning of a bad joke- So an ex-SOLDIER, science-fair project, flower merchant, ninja, two terrorists- one whose literally _armed _with a gun and one whose boobs are bigger than her own head, walk into a bar-"

Every single person in that alley reacted in a similar way: Cloud shot her a rather pointed and stiffly cold look, effectively silencing her. Tifa nearby gave the girl an indignant and slack-jawed expression but said nothing to contradict her. As for the others, Aerith blinked and pouted out her lip; Barret snarled a curse or two (although in silent agreement with Yuffie in truth); and Red snorted.

...Zack however, he couldn't help but blink and tilt his head in mild confusion. _Wait. Did she just call Cloud a SOLDIER-?_

He felt a quick squeeze on his wrist; apparently Cissnei thought she heard it too.

Said blond went on with a snort, "Pfft, right. Whatever the case, we have to pick out places where we can get supplies without emptying our own wallets in the process-" He resumed his ponderous suggestion with a thoughtful bob. "-Everything here's so freaking expensive we'd have to give up our first-born children just to pay it all off. So don't shop here, unless its _really_ necessary."

There were nods all around, although Yuffie kept on grumbling to herself.

The blond blinked and frowned in earnest next. He crossed his muscled arms and dipped his head. "After we rest, get a map of the region, and make sure we're not being followed, we'll head west." His lips thinned as if the answer wasn't something he liked admitting, "-We'll need to go far enough to find any other shops outside Costa Del Sol city limits and get some cheaper, basic gear with what little funds we have leftover- Food will be priority-"

"Fuckin' Hell," Barret growled, interrupting him. Cloud shot him a look for it, seeing how he was getting lost in own explanations; tired as he was. Barret however blatantly ignored him and continued with, "Yunno there ain't much between 'ere an' Corel; give or take some shit chocobo stables, mountains, monsters, rovin' thieves, and grasslands for _miles _around!"

"Its not like we have any other choice: Its that or chancing a potential Shinra shit-storm here," Cloud sarcastically bit. "Besides, Sephiroth could have easily left in that direction-"

Barret puffed up again, grumbling yet another unoriginal slew of expletives. "An' he coulda easily didn't! I mean, fucking 'ell, Spikes: We'd be hoofin' it for days without really knowing _for sure _of where he went."

Tifa and Yuffie meanwhile said nothing, the former settling for fidgeting instead. She entwined her fingers behind her back and fiddled them around, her demure gaze casted down at the grubby pavement. Yuffie childishly pouted in the meantime, blowing some hair out of her dirt-patched face.

Aerith however coughed neatly to get their attention; trying to nip the oncoming spat in the bud before it bloomed. Even Zack himself was sensing the early-morning ire between Barret and Cloud; although the two haven't really exchanged insults yet.

When the girl coughed again next, more pronounced this time around, she finally got the mens' attention. She allayed their budding discontent with, "Well, we may not know where Sephiroth went _yet_, but I think there's at least one way we'll be able to track him down..."

"Huh?" Cloud gave the girl his befuddled attentions, his brows slanting further then they already were.

She lifted a delicate, peach-tinted finger and added, "Shinra's mass movements will certainly give away his general direction. Remember, Rufus Shinra _himself _is after him personally, right?" At everyone's jointed nods, she elaborated with, "I say we use that, and follow the president wherever he goes. He's the president for crying out loud, so most everyone will likely know he's on the road. His reckless search for Sephiroth isn't exactly 'covert'- Its given the illusion of being some grandiose 'World Tour' thing, right?"

More nods.

"Sooo," she entreated. "His location may not be very secret. And even if he's on the move a lot, and if somehow following Rufus doesn't work, we could always trust and believe that the Turks will keep tabs on Sephiroth. Remember what Elena said in the Mythril Mines? If we don't follow Rufus, we'll see the Turks instead. And if we see them-"

"-Then we'll be on the same trail as the whole lot of 'em," Cloud concluded.

"Yes! Exactly," she clapped.

Tifa threw an arm over her and smiled luridly. Barret meanwhile pumped his metal arm and crowed, "Notta bad idea flower girl! Not bad at all!"

Cloud's eyes gleamed as well, and then he nodded, "That... might actually may work. Thank you, Aerith."

The girl smiled again in answer.

As for Barret, the man made a deep noise in his throat and asked, "Even so, wouldn't they uh, get in the way? An' shouldn't we have a plan for when we can't follow 'em?"

"They'll likely be following _us _should this happen, but yeah," Cloud nodded. "-They'll definitely try to fuck with us as we go- Rufus thinks Sephiroth is an Ancient, and he'll keep us from catching up to him in that case."

"Or come after Aerith again in earnest," Red shot over his furry shoulders. "Either way, we'll certainly encounter them."

"-And then we'll deal with 'em all the same," Cloud assured with iron-clad finality. "Its not like it matters much how it goes: When we go after Sephiroth, we can deal with him, the damn Turks, and Randal all at once; simple as that."

"Rufus," Tifa suddenly corrected.

Cloud blinked in glazed surprise and looked at her, puzzled. "Huh?"

"You said Randal."

"I did?" He asked.

"Hm-mm."

"...Shit." He unwound his corded limbs and snorted. "Its _way _too early for this crap."

Yuffie snirked at him, doing nothing to disguise her chuckling.

Barret ironically decided not to goad the blond in this instance, instead settling his mind onto something a little more important. He then asked, his burly shoulders squaring, "I uh... Call it a hunch Spikes, but I'm sittin' 'ere wonderin' if what we saw on the boat and what you know are two different things. Ya know?"

"Come again?" The other raised a blond brow, looking rather unimpressed by the proposed and rather vague assumption.

Barret elaborated with, "Well shit man; 'member what girly said? The red-haired Turk? She asked out-right if that fuggin' creep you banged steel with was even Sephiroth at all. And 'member what he said? _Notta thing!_" He sliced a hand threw the air for added emphasis, his bass going lower as he said, "He didn't acknowledge you, or Tifa, or nuthin'. He was jus' spouting crack-pot shit every time he opened his damn mouth. Like some sorta moon-mad wack-job!"

"And you think the freak we saw wasn't him?" Cloud pressed.

"Now I didn't say that," Barret frowned. He rubbed at the back of his head next, "But yunno, _he _didn't really confirm it either. Thing is, I'm just sayin' that maybe the thing we saw and the thing you knew from way back when was something else _entirely_. Eh, kinda."

"'Kinda'," Cloud air-quoted. "And... this is a hunch you're having?"

The larger man looked almost mollified by this skeptical dismissal, mashing his lips in constant mutters. By all rights and purposes, he looked almost embarrassed by his proposed thoughts.

Before Cloud could comment on it, Tifa beat him to it, "Maybe... maybe Barret's right." She shrugged next, "The Sephiroth on the boat didn't seem at all like the man we met in Nibelheim those years ago."

Cloud turned to her fully, his expression softening into polite intrigue. Around him, the others paid much more attention as well; Zack and Cissnei included. Tifa looked a little bashful to proceed with her thoughts when all eyes locked onto her, but Cloud's genuine interest in her words managed to coax her own out.

She said with a rather troubled (albeit difficult to read) expression, "I did find it weird that he didn't say anything in particular to _you_, Cloud. Its like what Barret said; he didn't seem to respond to anything beyond mentioning this 'reunion'. It was like he's, I dunno... Like his brain was scrambled or something- More than usual, I mean."

"...And you think he isn't really Sephiroth either?" Cloud pressed gently, trying not to frighten her into silence. Her took her words quite seriously the rare times she opened up about her thoughts; the girl had a nasty tendency to clam up when it was most inconvenient.

Said woman's expression shifted to hooded, "I just... I'm not really sure myself. Five years is, granted, a long time for any person to change. But Sephiroth?" She shook her head, "I'm not calling him a stable person by any means; especially considering how he was when he burned Nibelheim down... But he always came off as someone who wouldn't, I dunno, act like how he did when we saw him."

Cloud hummed, nodding sagely to her words. His arms retained their folded position as he said, "Sephiroth's always been a centered kind of guy; even when he's bat-shit crazy. He's also had five whole years to get his damned brain together after coming apart like he did back then; but he only seemed to get _worse_."

"Right."

"-And Sephiroth isn't someone who'd let himself mentally deteriorate to that point; with the exception of his initial breakdown," He tried to reason. "And the fact that he didn't seem to remember Nibelheim on the side..."

"Yeah," she nodded, her reply distant. "That set off some warning bells for me."

_I can't help thinkin' the same thing, _Zack felt his brows mirror Cloud's when they dipped. _You'd think Sephiroth would remember Cloud throwing him into the reactor's core, almost __**right **__after he hurt Tifa and killed his mother and her father, respectively. Sephiroth's got __**waaaayyyyy **__better memory than that. _

He let his gaze slide over to his cloaked companion, although he couldn't really see her. _Cissnei's right. This weirdo we found on the boat couldn't be Sephiroth at all. But... what else could it be? A copy...? _

_...No. Just, no. _

Zack briefly recalled Genesis' words in the reactor when he showed; suddenly feeling pressed by the weight of its brevity. _Genesis himself said Sephiroth's genes couldn't be diffused or some shit, and therefore couldn't be copied. So technically, a copied version of him just isn't __**possible**__. I dunno what the fuck's going on, but something isn't quite adding up here._

"And you wanna know what else?" Tifa offered next, jerking the man back to reality. "Didn't you find it weird that he somehow looked the same after all that time too? Like an _exact _mirror image of what we last saw-?"

Cloud shook his head and tightened his hold on his arms, "Well yeah. I mean, I _noticed_, but I also didn't, if that makes any sense. But then again, I don't know if Sephiroth could even be classified as human..."

"Hm," Tifa moved her arms behind her back, her expression pensive.

"So, what does that mean? He's like, some immortal monster or somethin'?" Barret motioned.

"No," Cloud breathed out, his expression deeply furrowed. "Monster maybe, but not immortal."

"Agreed," Red added after he's spent the better part of the conversation trying to identify any passing ears and eyes. He briefly looked over his shaggy shoulders, his curiosity piqued. "Sephiroth or not, I still believe this... aberration should be stopped. He kills indiscriminately, and for motives that could more likely end up in the loss of even more."

Barret grunted, "Well, what if Rufus finds out he ain't Sephiroth? Given if he isn't."

"Huh?" Cloud and Tifa glanced up at the same time, their stares matched.

"Say this feller ain't Sephiroth, and Rufus learns he ain't an Ancient or somethin'," Barret tried next, subtly changing the tact a tad. "Wouldn't he abandon his chase at that point and come back after us for sure?"

"...He probably would," Cloud's frown somehow grew darker than it already was. "But its a given if he finds out at all."

"Eh, maybe," the big man shrugged lopsidedly and leaned against the cool brick wall. "But its just a thought-"

"One we should consider when we're not about to get some through traffic," Red suddenly hissed. "Let's wrap it up."

"Right," Cloud nodded hurriedly. "So, even if what we saw somehow _wasn't _Sephiroth, it doesn't change the fact we need to get after him. If we run into Shinra along the way-" The blond raised a hand, curling it into a fist meaningfully. "We'll just give our _compliments _to good ol' Remus too."

"Rufus," Tifa amended again, with a smile this time.

"Yeah, whats-his-name," Cloud nodded, taking the mistake in stride and chuckling along with her.

Everyone else agreed as well; nodding all the while. To say the least though, Cloud certainly did look thoughtful at his own words; as was Zack close by.

Aerith however, her attentions lay elsewhere:

All this time, she merely fussed with a stray lock of her beautiful cherry-brown hair; listening to the conversation with careful scrutiny after her suggestion. Her fae-eyes suddenly lifted in the silence that followed, her weirdly intense gaze locked onto Zack and Cissnei's _exact _position at the end of the alley.

The man suddenly, intrusively felt like the girl _knew _they'd been hiding there the _whole _time; no doubts about it. And as if to magnify that horribly obtrusive sensation; she didn't remove her gaze from the pair for a near minute before finally blinking and looking calmly back at her hands, resting idly on her staff.

Aerith's uncannily anomalous aura has always been a constant source of fascination to Zack; it's probably one of the reasons why he _always _loyally returned to see her, no matter what. It wasn't just her radiant appearance and colorful personality; it's literally her very _presence _that drew him and others in. She certainly has the phantasmal and elegant mystique in a romanticized way; beauty aside.

But now, said presence was actually creeping him out; even for just a split second. Like, he knew her sense of awareness has always been a little abnormal, but Zack had never thought it beyond the normal kind of weird. Hell, even Zack's sensory abilities were beyond what's considered the norm for human. He'd been in SOLDIER for crying out loud.

But Aerith? Naw. She's just _special_; and her proof was in her lineage and in the relentless pursuits of the Turks. Shinra interests was just icing on that little cup-cake.

At the same time as she, Red nearby flicked his tail meaningfully; his one eye suddenly arrested onto Zack and Cissnei's location too. The creature said nothing, but his flaming tip flicked to and fro in a manner reminiscent of an agitated house cat. Aerith meanwhile had settled for staring every where else, but Zack knew what she was still aware of them.

_Fucking ball-sack, _Zack's fingers tightened minimally on Cissnei's wrist then.

Upon seeing Red's stiffened posture, Cloud's lips rapidly thinned in response, his cryo-colored eyes flashing briefly. "Well," he added lowly, the bags under his eyes suddenly more pronounced. "Let's get goin'. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can rest."

"..._Now_? Like as in, now-now?" Yuffie wondered.

"Yeah. As in _now_," Cloud crisply answered, fighting a yawn all the while. He sounded like an over-worked parent, funnily enough. The lurid neon-hue of his mako eyes seemed to dim some; his body slouching forward. "You heard Red; we need to go before someone sees us here. Its bad enough we spent more time in this alley than I'd like."

"Whoa whoa _whoa_! Who said we can't even take a little break first?" She bemoaned while every one else slowly got to their feet, her arms thrown out wide.

"We just did," the blond carelessly threw over his shoulder. "...When we were talking. We need to be outta sight, before those damned Turks decide to uh-" Cloud's stare sat upon the end of the alley, his eyes frigid. "-To actually _show their faces_."

_Double fuck,_ Zack inwardly groaned.

"Maaaannn-" Yuffie hung her head.

"Don't worry," Cloud added with a clap of a heavy hand on her shoulder. "When we find a place to check in at, I promise we'll rest there for a whole day; and not any hour less."

"...Really? Like, a _whole _day?"

The blond nodded, his next smirk flickering into existence as confirmation.

"As in... a _whole twenty-hour hours_?" Yuffie pressed, her expression suddenly impish.

"If we're not bothered by Shinra, then yup."

She sighed, "Fine. Let's go."

Tifa turned to Cloud, her hands migrating to her uniform. "Wait a sec. What do we do with these?" she said as she pulled on the dirty articles. "We don't need these disguises anymore, right?"

"Huh? Oh yeah." The blond jerked in acknowledgment of the query, as if he genuinely forgot that he and the others had been wearing the blood-stained, sweaty things. "I... I guess toss 'em," was his reply. "There's a dumpster right here."

Aerith giggled, "Its a shame Barret can't keep his. He looked so cute in it."

"_Wha- _Whaddya mean 'cute'?!" The bear-sized man waved a fist, but it was merely bluster and hot-air.

The Ancient then playfully added, probably just to tease him a little, "I thought you looked like a big teddy bear wearing a marshmallow. Marlene probably would've like it."

Cloud and the others snorted; but none more loudly than Yuffie. Red however hasn't removed his eyes from the invisible duo at the other end of the alley, his tail giving another agitated flick. Zack stared back; although he knew the quadruped couldn't see it.

...That is, until he saw Aerith remove her soiled uniform entirely, and he was able to see the wrinkled but relatively clean dress she wore underneath. His mouth went bone-dry then, his jaw clenching tightly enough to hurt.

To say the least, _shocked _was probably the most adequate and yet underrated word to describe Zack right now:

Aerith was wearing a _pink _dress, and a matching fusia jean jacket over it. And if that wasn't surprising enough, the next thing certainly almost did him in: He watched in shell-shocked fascination as she removed a faded, slightly worn pink ribbon from her breast pocket too; gently tying it with practiced ease into her woody russet braid. She put on her regular boots next; retrieving them from the pack Barret had.

To him, she looked absolutely _adorable _in this cheerful ensemble; and every bit as beautiful in pink as he'd figured she would. To see her wearing it now, he was certainly tempted to run over there and announce his presence.

Maybe, just _maybe_, she _was _still waiting for him after all.

His heart warmed; a thrilling giddiness leaping through his veins like some hot, mako-generated, electrified shock. He no longer felt tired; almost eager to actually get back on the job just so it could end a whole lot quicker.

_Save her first, _he told himself. _Then you can talk her again._

Suddenly, he felt a tug on his arm; Cissnei steadily pulling him away from the group. As it were, she's been pulling on him during that last minute; whilst he'd been eye-balling Aerith. Feeling rather embarrassed by this development, he silently moved with her; not removing his stare from Aerith until they turned the alley corner completely and he could no longer keep her in sight. The two steadily managed to get out of ear-shot, but remained cloaked nonetheless.

Once they were some street or two away, Cissnei pulled Zack into another dank dead-end alley not unlike the last. She checked for any passerby and uncloaked, releasing her grip on Zack's arm. She pulled out her phone next, quickly typing away something that eluded the man completely. He tilted his head at her as she did this, folding his arms as he waited.

When she was done, she turned to him and said in hushed tones, "Alright. I texted the Turk stationed here and told him about AVALANCHE's plan. He'll keep an eye on Aerith personally while we find a place to check into ourselves."

"Who's this guy anyway?" Zack couldn't help but wonder.

"Nunchaku," she said. _Ah. Another weapon specialist, _he quickly surmised as she went on. "He's a good friend. Probably the most cheerful Turk you'd ever meet." She smiled easily next, "If anything, I'm pretty sure you two would get along. He sticks out amongst us."

"Oh?"

Cissnei moved her arms behind her back, her expression bright despite her apparent fatigue. "Nunchaku's really open about how he feels; despite the typical stoicism most Turks employ. He wasn't raised inside Shinra like I was," she added next.

Zack shook his head, "Geez. You're probably like the fourth or fifth person I've ever met whose said that."

Her expression dimmed, but her suddenly strained, cryptic smile remained. She didn't comment on Zack's words; her face giving a rather minute flicker as if her comment let slip more than she cared to share. Once again, exhaustion may have had a hand in rendering her response.

"Whatever the case," she decided to move on. "-We need to get some rest ourselves. Nunchaku will make sure AVALANCHE has a place they can retire to for the night- er, day. So don't worry about them having to flounder around doing it."

"Uh..." he raised his pointer finger to ask.

"Nunchaku knows some hook-ups; and he's going to 'approach' them looking like any other civilian," she elaborated. "Don't worry. He's _really _good at what he does."

_Deception-wise_, Zack snorted.

"But, isn't that suspicious-?" he tried.

"Not if he's doing his job right," she said matter-of-factly.

"...Okay, I'm not going to keep asking then," the man decided, finding this whole statement uncomfortable. He'd probably wind up with more questions than answers. It made him wonder about about all the casual things he ever did with Aerith and just _how _much privacy he ever thought he had.

_Probably zilch_, was his guess.

"So uh, what do we do in the meantime?" He decided to ask.

"Easy: we find a place to sleep," she quickly replied. "We'll be ready to leave for Nibelheim tomorrow morning too; when we're more aptly rested. Nunchaku will lend us his ride for part of the trip there."

"Right," He nodded, but then he frowned and folded his arms. "But uh, how's he going to get it back? Isn't he gonna drive or-?"

"Nunchaku's gotta be our eyes," Cissnei elaborated. "He needs to concentrate on tracking AVALANCHE while they cross the country-side; so he'll be too busy to drive us. That's why he's lending us his ride. As to how he'll get it back, another one of our own will see to it."

"Uh, okay then. But, wouldn't he need it so he could follow them-?"

"Garm, quit asking questions. I'm telling you, he has some help with that too," she breathed, suddenly even more tired then she was. "Go with the presumption that he has a partner in the Corel region that'll help him keep tabs on them."

_Man this is confusing._

"Okay then," She sighed when he finally fell silent. She took out her phone when it pinged, her amber stare heavily-lidded. "Nunchaku's just sent me a place we can go and check-in; he's already taken care of the details. All we gotta do is show up."

"Wow. That was fast," he wondered, folding his arms. _And all this in the span of our conversation too._

"Then that means he _is _doing his job right," she smiled. "So... *yawn* -We're gonna walk there, give our face names, and then sleep. And tomorrow, or today, or _whenever_, we'll finish hammering out detail for our trip to Nibelheim."

"Yeah. Okay," Zack yawned back at her, his mind losing all shred of frail focus and whatever meager amount of energy he may have gotten form seeing Aerith. He gestured lazily and said, "Lead the way" next, his body slumping forward.

Zack followed the Turk girl away from the alley, but he still couldn't help his lingering thoughts that lay on the pink-clad Cetra girl in particular. Come Hell or high-water; nothing was gonna keep him apart from Aerith forever.

Especially now that he knew she was still waiting for him.

* * *

~777~

Early on that same morning, the two managed to find an acceptable hotel and checked in without any preamble.

Dead on their feet, Cissnei and Zack adjourned to their rooms and collapsed onto their beds in respective fashion; the latter not giving two shits if he missed a dose or two of his meds. His battle with the arm, tube- _whatever-the-fuck-it-was _monster, breathlessness, lack of food, and abnormal amount of fatigue had whittled his nerves down to nearly nothing; his mind a fragmented jumble of clashing emotions on the side.

The jointed combination of all of the above may have been why he slept so restlessly; and compounding that with hunger created some weird dreams as well. Dreams were dreams though; Zack had never really cared about them nor thought about if they could possibly mean anything. He usually forgot them pretty fast upon awaking too.

But when his fitful sleep turned into a nightmare-edged horror crap-shoot, he certainly did decide that maybe, it was significant in some way after all.

He wouldn't be able to remember much of it when he'd wake next, but it's certainly enough to jar him to near sobriety just so he could chase it off. His eyes popped open, bugged out, and stayed firmly arrested on his darkened ceiling at some unholy witching hour. Probably two or three in the morning he'd later notice.

His breath raggedly escaped him in shallow, jagged puffs; his chest heavy enough to fool the man into thinking someone was sitting on it. He checked once, and then stayed idle, trying to regain control of his panic-shaken limbs. He almost freaked out when his body refused to budge at first, but eventually he'd manage to sit up and throw his legs off the bed. He dragged a hand down his sweaty face; gritting his teeth in aggrieved irritation.

_Note to self; stop falling asleep on an empty stomach. When its an option, fucking __**eat **__and don't skip any more meals; no matter how tired you are._

Zack had spent quite a few nights giving up what little ration he had to Cloud during their run from Nibelheim to Midgar. Those nights, the rare times he felt it safe to sleep soundly, he had some of the more notably, horribly, vivid dreams he wished he could forget:

Some of them felt so real in fact that he thought he'd been legitimately discovered by the Shinra Army and forcefully dragged back to Hojo's lab kicking and screaming. And whenever he was in the lab, this time, he wasn't allowed to sleep through whatever horrors the mad-man conjured up. He'd be forced to watch the scientist disembowel Cloud and stitch him back together with a few extra parts and pieces. Sometimes he thought Hojo swapped parts between Cloud and himself; like one head on another's body or something.

_Ugh. Now I'm just making my memory of him exaggeratedly worse. Gotta stop doing that._

Point is, Zack had been driven to the near-end of his wits too many times in this one year alone; enduring the long road with hardly any interaction with any normal people outside of he and the spiky vegetable. Hunger, thirst, fatigue, small (but properly-placed) amounts of paranoia, and unhealthy sleeping habits had caught up to him a lot of that time.

But now, waking up in this room feeling much as he had then, he couldn't help that dreadful plunge his stomach took into icy, brackish murk. His clamminess left his entire body slick with sweat; his head pounding on the right side and his hands trembling like he was thrice his age. Breathing was a chore too; so much so that Zack now fully understood why Tseng had wanted Zack to avoid field work until he finished recuperating. He'd only been out of the hospital for a couple of days or so now; and it certainly wasn't enough time to help him heal yet.

After another span of several minutes, merely sitting there practicing his exercises, Zack found the gumption to rise. He migrated to the bathroom and ran the shower; deciding to take advantage of his opportunity to do so. He ran the water cold, shaking his head to finish chasing away the lingering dregs of sleep.

Once he finished, he dried himself as much as he bothered with and threw himself on the couch in the living room. He rummaged through his spare clothes bag and fished out some sweats and tee given to him by Hendal, making sure to carefully avoid Aerith's box. He knew he wasn't going to get any sleep for the rest of the night, so he told himself _fuck it _and switched on the television for a bit. His stomach gurgled a lot, but he knew there wasn't any place open at this hour.

He'd still be there watching bullshit cartoons and bad movies until the sun rose that morning too; letting his mind go blank in an effort to recover itself. He got up a couple of times to dig around for any snacks or coffee; and lucked out when he noted a working K-cup brewer in the kitchen. He hadn't noticed it when he first walked into this room, tired as he was.

After making himself a cup (something he doesn't usually drink, but who cares?), he sat and drank Joe like a fish. He was a live-wire before long; he even managed to get up and do some slow squats after dawn broke. He didn't too many; getting winded before he got past his second set- which was _absolutely pathetic _in his books. It didn't stop him though; and he kept on going until he was left gasping a short while later.

It wasn't long after he took his morning medicine when he got a knock at his door, jarring him out of his mental reverie. He blinked idiotically at first, but when he heard a tentative "Garm?" he realized it was just Cissnei. He went and unlocked the door, cracking it a tad just to make _sure _it was who he thought it was.

"Hey," she greeted when she saw his electric blues peek out at her. She frowned at his expression next, adding sarcastically, "You look like you slept well."

He said nothing initially, blinking owlishly and looking around her to be sure she was alone.

She chuckled somewhat at this, her expression lighting up a tad. "Don't worry," she told him with liquid ease. "I'm alone."

"Just making sure," he croaked, and then coughed. His voice alarmed him; he didn't think doing a couple sets of squats would make him sound _that _bad! Like _HOLY HELL I sound like fucking cartoon dog _was his thought.

When she crept in, he locked the door back behind her; feeling warier than usual for some reason. He presumed it was just the coffee making him anxious and promptly dismissed it next.

He gave the girl a once-over and noted that she wasn't in uniform yet; still favoring her yellow sleep-shorts and over-large gray uni-sex shirt. He cleared his throat and said, "So uh, did ya need me for something-?"

"What, no witty flirtatious comment or dirty double entendre this fine morning?" The girl teased lightly.

The ex-SOLDIER felt his eyes fall to his bare floor, his shoulders moving in a half-hearted motion almost too lazy to be a proper shrug. "Not feeling up to it," he grumbled lowly, his throat scratchy as fuck.

"Not feeling well?" She tried instead, her bubbly tone promptly dropping from her usual mellow one.

"Eh," he waved his hand, knowing he wouldn't be able to hide it from the well-trained Turk anyways. She was practically his keeper nowadays; considering what she's already done for him on the boat. "I've been better," he decided to word carefully. "-Had a buncha coffee too, but I think I remembered why I don't usually touch the stuff." He made a face at that, "Caffeine never did do me any favors."

She gave a little giggle, nodding to that reluctant statement. "I'd bet," she gently agreed, decidedly not pressing him for details.

Cissnei then plopped down on the couch, taking the remote to the t.v and jacking up the volume on it for some reason. Zack folded his arms, feeling immediately suspicious at this.

_Is she trying to drown out any potential ears? Should I be worried about that?_

"Uh, Cissnei-?"

"Sit with me," she told him with smile, her voice however seemed almost robotic at that.

"O~kay."

_Yup. Definitely worried now._

He did just that, gluing his eyes to the picture box but focusing his ears on the diminutive woman beside him. He kept a polite distance of roughly a meter between them, his arms carelessly thrown back on the head of the medium-sized couch.

"Uh... 'Sup?" His stomach was churning again, and damn if it wasn't the coffee doing it.

"I need to ask you something," she started, leaning towards him an inch or two. "Well, a couple of somethings really."

"...Shoot."

"Its about AVALANCHE," she told him right off the bat, her voice low enough to almost be entirely devoured by the amount of white noise the t.v blared. Zack had to strain his already advanced hearing just to catch it. "-I wanted to know if there's anything else you know about the members outside of Cloud and Aerith."

Zack couldn't help his rapid blink in mild shock at this. His lip curled next, his eyes flashing briefly. "Why're ya asking me?" he matched her lowered murmur with his own; his throat somewhat hoarse with irritation of both the physical and mental caliber. "Where's this coming from?"

"I wanna know: See, Tseng's been doing some digging on AVALANCHE ever since he got their names back when they were in Shinra tower-"

"You mean when they were imprisoned-?" He quickly bit.

The girl didn't flinch or deny it, "Even so. He needed their background information for some reason; I think he's trying to find if they had any other previous connections to Shinra, or something more significant like family." She squinted at this, but pressed on with, "Mostly, he's been trying to dig up information regarding Cloud in particular."

"Right. And-?"

Cissnei propped a leg over the other, her gaze level. "He managed to find out that Tifa was formerly a resident in Nibelheim. She has no other relatives or acquaintances that we know of; with the exception of Cloud. Did you ever talk with her at all during your deployment?"

"You're asking if I actually knew her," Zack stated rather flatly, giving a more sardonic snort at that.

The girl sighed then, "Figured I'd be straight with you: And, I know you couldn't have had _long _to know her; but any information pertaining to her and her connection to Cloud may be helpful." She suddenly switched tact with, "Didn't you find the comment the previous day weird? Like, the SOLDIER comment, I mean."

"...Yeah, now that you mention it," Zack agreed.

"Think about it," she mused. "If Tifa knows him as well as we think she does, and is around him more often than not _now_, maybe she knows how different Cloud really is- and whatever else he's telling them."

The man actually jolted at this, his jaw coming agape part of the way as the idea came to mind. Still, he couldn't help but frown as he pondered the girl in question. He turned to his Turk partner and asked, "Can I ask where you're going with this?"

Cissnei didn't reply at first, as if considering her words carefully. Then, "Its a working thought; seeing as we've still got no decent method of proper surveillance in the works." She folded her arms, "I wondered if maybe, there might've been a reasonable way to get some intel from them without having to resort to using an operative."

_-Not that I'm a fan of spying on my own friends though, _Zack thought in distaste as an after-thought. He couldn't help his clench in his jaw at the idea.

Zack nonetheless hummed at her words, grunting softly in acknowledgement. "If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, then I wouldn't think she's exactly the type," he told her.

"What-?"

The ex-SOLDIER checked back over his previous reply and almost chuckled- it sounded as funny as it had been confusing now that he was actually pondering it.

Nonetheless, he thought back to his brief acquaintance with Tifa, and then elaborated with, "Tifa's always come off as somebody who'd let you know straight to your face if she does or doesn't want anything to do with you. She's pretty straight-forward enough." He chuckled almost darkly. "And she uh... she's pretty clear about her feelings about associating with Shinra as it is."

"Lemme guess," Cissnei pondered. "Personal vendetta because of Nibelheim?"

"She's in AVALANCHE now, so I'd think that answer _that _question."

"True," Cissnei nodded in reply to Zack's last statement. She unwound her arms and leaned towards the man with a hopeful lilt in her next query, "Well, how well do you think she knows Cloud anyway? _Close_ friends, perhaps?"

"Ah... I don't really know enough to say, but-" Zack shook his head then, folding his large arms and weighing one of his last conversations with the spiky-haired blond. "When I asked 'im, Cloud tried to skirt the topic and said he 'kinda' knew her. I got the feeling that he and her had some sorta issues, but not anything hostile."

"But you don't really know any specifics," Cissnei seemed to deflate.

Zack it waved off, "No, but I'm pretty sure the two of 'em are pretty tight; tight enough to apparently be friends. I can't see Tifa being anything less to him."

"Hm."

He nodded, "'Sides, I've seen enough between 'em while we were on the boat to know that she apparently thinks highly of Cloud. She's not helpless, but she'd confide in Cloud if she really needed his help."

_Like, really need it. _

"So... you're completely positive that they're friends, and not anything else?"

"Yeah. And she'd be rightfully concerned about him if his behavior is _that _strange. And again, from what I've seen personally," Zack recalled Cloud's macho bravado and felt his gut tighten again. "-Cloud's definitely changed too _much_ in the small amount of time between me and 'im last meeting each other. Tifa's bound to know what's up."

If he didn't know better, Zack could've swore he'd seen a flash flare up in the girl's cool cinnamon eyes.

_Seriously, is she still considering her previous idea?_

"I wonder though," she then gently shifted the topic. "Do you have any idea how Tifa got out of Nibelheim?"

Zack leveled his eyes onto the t.v and cast his mind back to five years ago. "...I dunno how she managed to get outta Nibelheim," he freely admitted. "All I knew is the last thing Tifa said to me was just how much she hated Shinra. She wouldn't let me help her even when she was pretty much _bleeding to death_."

Cissnei blinked at this, raising both of her gently sloped mahogany brows.

Zack added with a resigned heave, "Sephiroth cut 'er down as he did everyone else- When I arrived, she shrugged me off like _I _was who did it... I really thought she was a goner." His own brows dipped at this, "But ya know, now that I think about it... Me and Cloud and the rest of Nibelheim was scraped up off the ground like gum on sidewalk; with the two of us becoming Hojo's play-things in the process. But Tifa... How_ did _she manage to get away anyway-?"

_And not get turned into another one of Hojo's projects too_, he wondered.

"Did she have any friends that could've dragged her out of there?" Cissnei inquired.

"You said it yourself," he shrugged. "You Turks couldn't find any connections between Tifa and anyone else; other than Cloud."

Said Turk pondered this, but shook her head. "We also don't know her beyond her fists: Reno could tell you that," Her next smile was more bitter than anything. "Surely you've seen her with someone outside of Cloud?"

Zack slouched forward and rested his arms on his lap, blinking in brief realization as he recalled the event in more detail:

Yes, he did encounter a rather large, well-toned but older man who was seen talking to Tifa prior to Sephiroth's purge. Yes, this man was noted to be helping around the town, saving whoever he could during the burning. And yes, when Zack approached him beforehand, he did claim that he was teaching a student living in the town and was actually very fond of said student- although he didn't really give any names specifically.

_But he did distinctly say 'her'- if I'm remembering right._

Zack clenched his jaw, finally removing his eyes from the television and giving Cissnei his fullest attention. "I think so," was his answer to her earlier question. "She may have had someone help her out of there."

"Hm. Any idea of who they were?"

"Can't remember the name," Zack truthfully admitted. "Too much happened too fast."

The girl took the answer in stride, thoughtfully pursing her lip. She merely said "Fair enough" and entwined her hands.

Zack weighed her previous queries; wondering why he suddenly felt like she was fishing for something. "Whatever the case," he decided to shelve that idea for the moment. "I think the one we also need to keep an eye on is ol' _sticky fingers _too. She might try to rob 'em blind or something."

"Huh-?" Cissnei blinked. "Who do you mean?"

"The Wutian girl. I met her before too," Zack decided to elaborate.

"Oh. How-?"

The man gave a rather long and deliberately drawn-out sigh, throwing back his head on the couch and dramatically throwing his legs onto the table in front of him. "Thing is," he began. "-Long story short is that she's a damn thief who wouldn't shaddup about Wutai's restoration or something- A noisy little kid who isn't really a threat so much as she's a nuisance."

"So... exactly _why _do we need to keep an eye on her-?"

"...I get the distinct feeling she _may _be problem for them," Zack told her. "She certainly was for me; whether she was being purposely helpful or the opposite. You saw that fight-" He referred back to the battle with the tube-monster at this, "Cloud and the cat-thing had been in serious danger _twice _'cause of her. _Twice! EACH. _I'm telling ya, Yuffie's a damn danger magnet! I'm practically paranoid of her involvement with Aerith on that note."

"Oh," Cissnei nodded. "Was it really that bad?"

"You have _NO _idea," he stated, his tone ultra serious. He gave her his flattest, hardest, most dead-pan stare he could possibly muster for extra emphasis.

"Okay then... I'll be sure to tell Nunchaku," she said with a shrug, taking out her phone and texting the Turk right then.

Zack quirked his brow at her; if he didn't know better, he'd say Cissnei's tone was as nonchalant as possible. Like she didn't take his words too seriously at all.

She dazedly mused, "Might as well take some incentive from this and take extra care in watching the subject, I suppose."

Zack cringed, baring his teeth briefly. "Could ya, I dunno, _not _call Aerith or Cloud a subject?"

The girl looked up, blinking at the query with a budding question about to bloom on her tongue before it swiftly wilted away. She suddenly nodded in sagely understanding; seeing Zack's apparent issue in the label.

"Gotcha," she smiled. "After all, they're no longer Hojo's toys, right?"

"Right," he softly grinned back, thankful for the courtesy.

"Okay. Not that _that's _taken care off, there's something else I've been meaning to mention," she told him next, stashing her phone away.

"'Kay. I'm listening."

The girl pursed her lip, looking rather uncomfortable with this new bit of information. "The thing is," she started with evident hesitation. "Before his resignation, Hojo actually identified the sub- I mean, _Cloud _that same night, right before the president's death. He was going to isolate Cloud and bring him back to Nibelheim for some reason-"

The horrendously warped, twisted melding of habit-born worry and unstoppable, rampant surge of random fear-induced adrenaline speared through Zack's body; his face spasmodically twitching in knee-jerk reaction at first. Jaw clenched tighter than before, he was on his feet before he even realized it; his body defensively reacting to a nearly year-long instinct he's forged in his run through the wilds.

Right this instant, he felt the strange, alien desire to go running to Cloud immediately and warn him to hide himself for the next one-hundred years, pretense and disguise be damned. It was a horrible, uncontrolled sense of primal fear he didn't think he was familiar with; and it was a reaction even he couldn't prepare for.

He may not have expected Cissnei's words, but he certainly didn't think he'd feel the way he would towards her truth either. He tried to tamp down and lock away that absurb rush; forcing himself to take a seat when the girl went and touched his arm. The warm, delicate fingers weren't feather-light; but not harsh neither: The touch was just enough to anchor the man to his reality; reminding Zack that he and Cloud were no longer in that kind of danger.

Reluctantly, he sat back down and let out a pent-out breath; knowing that his situation wasn't like what it was less than a month ago. Cissnei kept a fairly firm hold of his arm, her strangely velvety finger-tips gently squeezing his wrist in mute understanding. She waited until he got his breath before releasing him and sitting back.

"Sorry. I didn't think that-" she trailed off.

"Don't," he began, but his tone wasn't hard. Brittle maybe, but no less his own usual one. He turned and gave her a wane smile, "Force of habit, I guess. And uh, call it douchey, but I almost wanna thank Sephiroth for crashing the party that night." His smile widened marginally, but it was a ruse, "I don't think I can stand by anymore knowing that fuckin' lunatic scientist was out hurting more people, let alone goin' anywhere near and Cloud and... and- You know."

The girl didn't argue; merely nod and let out a breath of her own. "Yeah," she murmured. "I know."

"So uh, you were sayin'?"

Cissnei hummed and resumed her earlier explanation, pretending Zack's abnormal reflexive reaction towards Hojo's name wasn't something she shouldn't be concerned about. In a way, he mentally thanked her for not dwelling on it.

"See," she straightened her posture and rested her hands neatly on her lap. "I was just saying, that, if Hojo was going to take Cloud away, then maybe that would suggest that he wasn't done 'testing' yet- I dunno what that may suggest, but obviously its means to me that Cloud needs to be _especially_ watched."

Zack's frown deepened. "Of course it does," he scathingly bit, more to himself than anything. _But, it makes me wonder about whether or not I should be worried about __**me **__for crying out loud. _"-All the more reason to head into Nibelheim, right?" He said instead.

"Right."

"'Kay then. Anything else?"

Cissnei got up from the chair and walked around the table in front of Zack, her signature cryptic smile in place. "Only that we keep this conversation to ourselves. Tseng didn't forbid me from telling you that last bit, but he discouraged it." Her smile churned a touch more next, "And as for Tifa: _nobody _has to know we discussed it. Not even the Director thought about that."

A more familiar, impish grin gently creased its way into existence at this, Zack giving the copper-headed Turk his most confident smirk. "Gotcha," he winked, feeling confidant in Cissnei's ability to deviate from Turk norm.

_Ally indeed. _

"Now then," she smiled back, her expression more genuine. "Shouldn't we get ready to go? It's still early, but I think we can make it to Nibelheim by tomorrow morning if we leave in the next few minutes."

The man took the remote and shut off the t.v, nodding to his partner's words. "Yeah. Let's get goin'," he smirked. "Just give me a few minutes to pack away my shit."

"Same. I'll see ya in a few," she said as she made for the door.

Zack however was quick to rise and beat Cissnei to it, unlocking the door and opening it for her like a gentlemen. Cissnei smirked at him and left promptly, rust-colored locks bouncing merrily in her wake.

After she left, Zack's smile promptly died as he weighed the Turk's last words regarding Cloud, his heart suddenly ten times heavier. To say the least, the small detail regarding Hojo may have made things a _bit _more complicated, he figured- Seeing as he couldn't help but wonder about his own physical well-being.

Cissnei said Cloud had to be watched, but Zack couldn't help wondering if he too should be counted into the equation as well. And if that were the case, it would certainly explain why Cissnei seemed to check in on him so often. Or maybe he was over-thinking this, and he was just being paranoid.

He hoped it was the latter.

* * *

~777~

Not even an hour later, Zack was out in the streets with his considerably shorter companion, his mind lingering on their previous conversation more than he cared to admit.

The two were finally out of Costa Del Sol proper; now walking to its slightly sketchier out-skirts to meet with Nunchaku in just a short while. Here in this part of the city, town, or whatever it was, the buildings were a lot less cleaner in appearance; especially since none had that charming open ocean view most came here to enjoy. The shops here were still no less numerous though; and if anything, the populace was somehow even _more _crowded than the proper itself.

_Probably 'cuz of the apartments,_ Zack thought. _Cheapest they've got here. And even then you're still getting financially robbed blind- Unless you're Shinra._

Whatever the case, Zack didn't think cloaking was needed in this instance; seeing how it's crowded enough that making himself invisible would render the action moot. He'd simply bump into a person or two every other moment; and cause confusion doing so. At this time of year, Costa Del Sol was at one of its busiest peaks. Moreover, the bags he carried would've gave him away anyways; and admittedly would've looked funny floating in mid-air behind the Turk.

So yeah. No point for invisibility at this time of day.

Once they began leaving this town in earnest, stopping at the very edge of the city, Cissnei hummed at something and stopped her taller companion. Zack passed looks between her and her outstretched hand in front of his chest, tilting his head at her.

"Wassup? Something wrong?" he asked, carefully taking in the scenery around him for anything suspicious.

"No," she lowered her limb and surveyed a shop across the street. "I just thought of something," she said next. "Can you wait here a minute?"

"Huh? Oh, sure-?" He complied readily enough, although he didn't know why.

"Don't worry. I'll be back in just a sec," She said to him. "I might as well capitalize on it while we have the chance. There aren't many more shops where we're going anyways."

_I swear, girls and their shopping, _Zack smirked, fondly recalling his first date with Aerith.

"Okay, whatever. Knock yourself out," He gesticulated.

Cissnei gave the man a more sincere smile, her topaz stare warm. "Wait right here," she said, handing Zack her weapon toat. "Don't wander off."

"No promises," he joked.

The brunette jostled her way through the crowd, disappearing into a head-wear shop close by. This chosen destination baffled Zack, but he'd figure he'd ask once she got man decided to take a breather anyway, leaning against another trinket shop corner with his hands firmly on their bags of belongings.

They weren't carrying that much; Zack's portable respirator pouch for emergencies sat on his side, his sheathed blades and back-pack of spare clothes with Aerith's letter box stashed on his back, Cissnei's personal toat in one hand, and the girl's weird bag of hidden tools for her trade she handed him in the other; including her folded shuriken. Truly, not a whole lot.

However, Zack _was _getting hot here, wearing his gray casuals and less-suspicious but still no less out of place navy blue hoodie. He had his respirator mask on, and his hood was pulled pretty far forward, but he still felt exposed in some way. Other than that, he was getting some curious stares from passerby on occasion. That said, he sidled into the shadier alley instead, still staying fairly close to the spot Cissnei told him to stay.

_Maybe Cissnei went into that shop for me, _he suddenly randomly thought. _I can't be walking around a public place like this dressed as I am for times I can't cloak. Its too hot for this kinda get-up._

Zack sighed loudly, briefly putting down Cissnei's personal toat so he could fan his face; to little effect really. He huffed loudly, his mako eyes carefully scanning the environment for any disturbance.

Unfortunately, he should've been looking a little more carefully _behind _him.

_BAM._

Next thing the ex-SOLDIER knew, he was on his front with a tiny body pressed up against him from behind. The scrawny, bony frame suggested female, but Zack couldn't really tell between the back pack and his plummeting mood. The impact had knocked his sword and glaives askew; clattering obnoxiously loudly on the pavement as the two rolled over. People glanced in their direction briefly, but continued on their way after a cursory glance over the scattered belongings.

"_Ow ow ow!_" bemoaned the scraggly pile of limbs atop him. "Geez! Its like I ran into a _brick frickin' wall _or something!"

_That voice._

Zack groaned and bucked without pretense, throwing the girl off more rudely than he originally intended but not regretting it anyway when he heard another "Ugh!" right after. He bared a snarl that went unseen through his respirator mask and heaved as he rose. Once he drew himself to his fullest height and turned, he took in the sight of his little assault-tee. With that once-over, he couldn't help his immediate scowl.

_-And life continues to do me dirty. What the fuck did I do to deserve this?_

The small ninja girl, Yuffie as fate would have it, was already on her feet in a flash, readying her most intense 'glare' yet and was furiously stomping towards him.

"You big meanie! You coulda helped a lady up ya know! Not that I need it," she puffed, dusting herself off primly. "I swear, people these days!"

She harrumphed and was about to turn and leave, but of course the situation degraded when she took one more look at the taller individual. Her large eyes grew larger, her mouth dropping open in a typical 'O' shape. Zack was having a brief little heart-attack as he took in her plainly surprised expression.

That's when she jabbed a finger at his chest and practically yelled, "_You! _I know you!"

_No no no nooo..._

"-You're that _weirdo_ from the boat!" She stated. "The one with the Turk! What're you doin' here anyway? And where's your friend at ?" She flashed wary glances every-which way, as if Cissnei would pop up right there.

Zack silently thanked Minerva that Yuffie didn't recognize him from years ago; not that he was exposed in any way except his eyes. This aside, the man was about to fold his arms, but didn't follow up on the gesture upon remembering Tseng's firm warning about his more unconscious habits. He kept said limbs at his sides, his fists balling briefly but uncurling the next second later in his discomfort.

Yuffie noted the tiny gesture, but then plastered her own hands to her waist in a haughty show, "Not much of a talker, are ya?" She went to walk around him, but Zack devoutly kept the girl in _front _of him; not trusting her to leave his sight for one second. She hummed appreciatively at this, her smile's sudden appearance almost taking the hooded man by surprise.

"Not letting an enemy see your back, eh? Pretty smart," she commented amicably. "I wonder though, what the heck are _you _doin' here anyhoo? All by your lonesome I take it?"

He said nothing, blinking disinterestedly at her while keeping his posture relaxed but loose enough to coil should he need to do something. _-Not that I know what_, he thought at that.

Yuffie continued to bore into him, her scrutiny growing longer and more uncomfortable by the minute. Zack was beginning to wonder where Cissnei was at this point, keeping his cowl low over his eyes but his stare utterly focused on the girl in front of him. He didn't want her to see the distinctive hue of his eyes; even though he knew a good, scary scowl could potentially chase her off.

Eventually, Yuffie seemed to come to a decision and nodded to it, snapping her fingers at it. "Yeah. Now that I'm looking at cha, I can't help thinking you look less like a Turk and more like a SOLDIER! Is that right?"

Still he made no verbal reply, instead dismissively shaking his head in a way to discourage her oddly accurate guess. He went to pick up the abandoned blades and bags, next, keeping the girl in front of him as much as possible.

At his lack of response otherwise, Yuffie's smile withered into an annoyed pinch of her features; sighing quite pointedly at him. "Man you're rude," she went on to comment. "And now that I'm thinking about it-" she was looking at his pouch on his side, likely remembering its feel during her incidental collision with him. She added next, "You can't be SOLDIER; not in your condition. I coulda swore they fire dudes like you once you're no longer useful- Kinda like draft chocobos."

_How right you are_, _in a way, _he thought bitterly. _But you don't have to a rude little shit about it, _came the other, uncharacteristically nasty thought a second later. Dealing with this girl always gave him headaches, as it were.

Yuffie watched him situate himself with the bags, Zack trying his best to show his lack of interest in further conversation. He even added in a lazy wave of his wrist, a mute way of saying "Get lost, kid" without his having to vocalize the words. However, his gesture not only confused the girl, but irritated her in the process.

"Hmmph! Fine! I'll guess I'll just leave then," she proclaimed, turning her own back as if to depart the way she came. "You're boring anyway."

_Good. Leave me in peace._

Zack sighed loudly, the sound muffled by his respirator. He waited until the girl was gone all the way down the alley and turned the corner before finally returning his attention to the street ahead of him. He continued to placidly wait for Cissnei, feeling so relieved to be rid of Yuffie that he lowered his guard for that same second. His earlier anxiety from his caffeine-high had left the man exhausted enough as it is.

And perhaps, that same fatigue was what constituted for one of Zack's less than great moments, in this instance.

Before the ex-SOLDIER even knew it, not a moment has gone before she came dropping out of nowhere; landing atop the his shoulders with a profound _"GOTCHA!" _She briefly clamped her legs around his neck; deliberately throwing her weight forward while the man threw out his limbs in a vain attempt to retain balance. Zack still toppled over despite his resistance; encumbered as he was with all the gear.

Before he even hit the ground fully, Yuffie was off of him as quickly as it happened; leaping with the peculiar grace of squirrel just a meter or two away. Proudly, she flashed her prize; holding out one of Zack's green materia just for the man to see.

"Later Shinra chump!" She cackled before she adeptly leaped into the thick of the crowd, moving with a fluidity she has apparently gained over the years.

Zack however wasn't about to let that _stupid, snot-nosed brat _make off with one of Tseng's more rare and valuable materia though- And especially after she made him look like a damn fool in the process! In the _streets _no less!

Now as a matter of pride, the ex-SOLDIER decided to rectify this situation by trying to cast stop on her; but belatedly realized that he could do no such thing: His Time materia had been the very one she's made off with in the first place; and this particular choice in pilfer-able goodies was what baffled Zack.

_Clever girl. So she __**did**__ get better..._

Back on his feet now, Zack made off after her; leaving his various packs behind in the alley-way for the moment. He hoped Cissnei would find them; but it wasn't like he could go after Yuffie with the articles in tow. He'd get winded long before he caught the spry little klepto-maniacal idiot. There's that, and he didn't want to risk potentially breaking the fairly fragile portable respirator either.

Despite difficulty breathing, the man was on her trail before too long; his sensitive eyes long-since primed for this very instance. Yuffie was good; definitely and noticeably better than she was back then, but she wouldn't get far without having to find a better way to ditch the former SOLDIER. She expertly dived into the crowds and weaved through the lot like a cock-roach through the cracks.

Zack knew he'd regret this later, but he _had _to pick up the pace. Breaking into a full sprint; a speed the man had once been unrivaled back in SOLDIER, he was easily able to gain on her while somehow managing to dip between passerby. He used levitation to leap over the frightened bunch of people too, using his momentum to push from one side of the street to the other.

Still Yuffie eluded him; decidedly using her newly acquired materia to her advantage. She cast the speed-boost aspect of her treasure upon herself; and then swiftly ducked to the side like a true, professional ball-player hitting home plate. Zack missed her by _this much_; frustrating the man to no end.

"Ya gotta try a lot harder that!" She hollered back at him, her speedy form disappearing down the street.

_You asked for it!_

Zack blinked out of existence; but resumed running and leaped onto the roof-tops to trail after her and effectively avoid traffic. His heart frantically thrummed against his chest; a welling of pain blooming from the area where the old bullet wounds were. He ignored this of course; trying not to mind it much as he relentlessly pursued the girl like a determined blood-hound on the prowl.

Finally, the haste-endowed girl wove her way into another side-street; ducking beneath some awnings in a trinket shop-littered street. The area was absolutely _sprawling _with activity, but still Zack followed. As he predicted, Yuffie vanished from sight once she passed under a particularly gaudy one with red and yellow stripes.

_She had this destination in mind_, he suddenly noted. _Gotta hand it to her; she's been learning while I've been catatonic._

Zack remained invisible; hoping the girl had no way to track him either: She probably hoped to lose him here if his inability to endure didn't slow him down first. Yuffie was trying all she could to use Zack's disadvantages against him. He once again applauded her for her adept learning curve.

Still he scanned, hunting through faces and people alike while trying to measure his breath and heart-beat; suddenly feeling perversely _excited _to be doing something so challenging. Zack liked a good chase here and there; and its partly what gave him his canine moniker other than his more conversational ticks (like his head-tilts and general enthusiasm). Zack the Hound was a working title he once heard whispered by a third class once; and he would've liked the name if it hadn't been for the dog-related terms being sullied by the bad memories attached to them.

And they got old on the side... So there's that.

_There._

He didn't know how he sensed it; nor what he expected, but soon he saw a slowly shuffling figure with a cap covering her dark hair moving in the _opposite_ direction Yuffie had been running. She was carefully stealing her way through, trying not to go so fast as to alert anyone around her. However, the short stature, general gait, and now obviously hastily compiled and new ensemble alerted him to her.

By now, Yuffie was wearing a new, albeit wrinkled Costa Del Sol souvenir shirt over her usual ones; making her appear another size larger. She had a pair of capris on; and the shit all looked brand new- as in _freshly stolen from the clothes shop beneath Zack _new.

The man grinned, stalking his prey down the street until he saw the sneak-thief turn another corner. She headed towards a more open street; leading out to the main road that emptied out in the Corel Plains. To Zack, it seemed obvious that she was in a hurry to find her compatriots now; and if she did make it to them he'd have a hard time getting that materia back. The group would likely take the materia for their own quest; not at all repentant of Yuffie's more questionable manner of retrieval. After all, she stole from a Shinra employee for all they knew; so why would they let a possible enemy have it back?

_Oh no you don't!_

Zack loped into an easy trot above her, head ducked and shoulders bunched. His mako-eyes stayed firmly arrested on the tiny target until she moved into a more relaxed lope; stopping to take a breath a minute later. She drew herself up, turned to look around for her pursuer, and then continued on her merry way.

Zack carefully stole his way to the street below, silently stalked up to her, and waited until she was _absolutely _alone before he did anything else. Yuffie turned to cut through someone's yard and make her way to another alley, chuckling to herself all the while remaining ignorant of him.

What the poor girl didn't take into consideration was just how _horribly determined _Zack Fair truly was; just what kind of man he could really be when a mission was starting to go south.

_If only she knew._

Zack snaked a gloved hand over her mouth and wrapped another arm around her bony shoulders, feeling a bit like a creep doing so. He felt bad scaring her like this now that the initial hunt was over, but he _desperately _needed that materia back. He couldn't have Tseng lecturing him about his inability to stay on his guard later on after all-

He wouldn't _ever _let Zack heard the end of it.

Yuffie kicked out her long legs; protesting with a muffled _"HRMMF" _against the black arm-bracer material Zack wore. Clearly, she was panicked; but Zack had every intention of merely taking his materia as quickly as he could. That said, he pressed her front against the wall and twisted her arms behind her back; checking her limbs for the likely absorbed materia.

He lucked out; he noticed she had it on her left limb and proceeded to extract it with careful precision. He had to make sure Yuffie couldn't scream out, so he used her own bandanna and managed to tie it over her mouth to quiet her. Then, he used one hand to keep her own behind her back while he used the remaining one to extract the bright-lime-colored gem from her. Once he absorbed it back, he released her promptly and snorted like an angry bull to emphasize his distaste for her larceny.

Yuffie didn't scream when she got free; not even when she unwound her hair piece from her mouth and tied it back with huffy pride. She rounded on him and squared her shoulders instead. "Hey! I stole that fair and square!" She yowled. "I swear to the great Leviathan _I will smite thee!_" She shouted as annoyingly loudly as she could, jabbing her fists at him.

Zack coolly and calmly dodged her of course, his adrenaline high wearing off. He shrugged at her, in manner like _Not even mad bro_.

"Ugh! You're such a smug JERK!" Yuffie huffed, throwing hands like it was no one's business. "Fight me punk! Come on, let's do it! Here and now you Shinra lap-dog! Put 'em up!"

Zack frowned at her use of the insult, recalling once upon a time when an enemy of his used the same label on him- _Genesis _namely. Of course, Zack said nothing to her, but it _did _bother him a little.

But then, just as Zack considered simply walking away, _that's _when it hit him.

His chest blossomed into a raging inferno of gods-forbid the _worst pain _he's ever felt; so much in fact it doubled him over and left him gasping on the ground. His hands flew to his heaving chest and plastered themselves there; his suddenly sweaty forehead pressed against the semi-warm cement.

Great Minerva, he couldn't _begin _to properly describe the pain! Zack continued to wilt and crumple there, right in front of Yuffie no less; wheezing and puffing shallowly and rapidly. He even slumped onto his side, his mask chinking softly against the cement.

"Oh my god!" Yuffie stumbled back. "Oh Gods! Uh, uh, uh, what am I supposed to-?"

Zack's face suddenly decided to turn a fine shade of pale pink and shift to newer, darker shades from there; frightening the Wutian girl into brief action.

"Uhh... Wait! I think I can-" She rapidly looked left and right next, trying to take in her location a bit more carefully. "I- Uh, wait there! I know someone who can help!" She yelled as she dashed off, although Zack couldn't really focus on what she was saying at this point.

The girl was gone quicker than expected; not that Zack noticed nor cared or anything. He simply lie there; frantically fighting for his feeble breath and for any sense of _control _on his suddenly disobedient body. His kicked his leg out a few times or so; or maybe not at all. He wouldn't really remember later on if he did or not.

Adrenaline shot through him again; only this time it was a flight response he had no will or control over. It strangulated him in its animistic entirety; leaving him thoughtless in his frenzied, fear-induced state. Sense all but drained away; shapes and colors and light smearing and distorting into a blurred amalgamation of useless information right in front of him. It flickered some; bled and seeped away from his sight as his enfeebled mind frantically clawed at itself.

He was drowning.

_Drowning._

_Drowning__ in his own broken, tattered body. _

_The thickly saturated, coppery liquid engulfed and consumed his throat; choking out whatever other taste there was. It built and built and built; filling his nose and mouth with its viscous presence and effectively finished forcing out whatever little air he could shakily drag in. Breathing was no longer was an option to him; lost as it was as he dimly realized the brevity of his injuries._

_He thought he'd been standing, but when exactly did he lie down? He didn't recall toppling over like some cut puppet; lying in a growing pool of his own fluids. How gross was that?_

_Holy gods. Was he dying? Was __**this **__what dying felt like? Was he supposed to be losing all sensation in his limbs? His lower body? He certainly felt weak enough; but what was dying really?_

_The cold rain misted the world around him; the blurry landscape smearing together like someone threw a bucket of water on a grey-scale charcoal panorama. It contorted the shape, contrast, light, and sense as a whole. Darkness crept into the corners of his vision; narrowing his already shitty sight._

_Wow. Drowning in your own blood sure did take a while. Couldn't he die just a __**little **__faster?_

_He tried to breath again; but to no avail. He could barely summon his own voice; merely whispering out crackling remnants of his former timbre. He turned his failing eyes to the bedraggled world around him; seeing no light or any true definition of shape and color. He thought he saw a yellowed __**something **__creep into his darkening vision, but at this point, Zack couldn't rely on his eyes to weave the truth to him._

_His eyes told lies. They lied about the weird spiky thing that leaned ever so close; that weakly puffed against his cheek. They lied about the gray and blue and yellow shapes that twisted together like some abstract painting. They lied about a lot of other things too._

_What were they again? And why should he care anyways? They were lies after all._

_His chest hurt. His body hurts. His head hurts._

_But mostly, his heart hurts._

_It hurt in a lot of ways; and not just in the physical sense. Like, it hurt in a way that made existing hurt. Like it wasn't whole, or full. It palpitated a lot, filled with fear as it was, but not full of something else._

_However, it warmed when he heard her velveteen murmur creep into his fractured reality; essentially shattering the blood-trance cast upon him._

_Its lingering warmth coalesced within his belly; a gentle creek slowly threading something unnamed into him. It lilted; rose and fell into the softest of sighs. It ghosted his lips sometimes in times long past; singing new purpose into him. It gave him sensation; weaving a semblance of meaning that inspired. Whatever that inspiration was though, was lost to him._

_But he knew one thing; he wanted to keep feeling that warmth. He was afraid of it going away. He didn't want it to go away. _

_He wanted to hear her again._

_And not just to hear her; but to see her again too. To not let his eyes lie to him anymore. He wanted to speak to her; to not let his stupid drowning stop him from speaking to her again._

_He wanted to make all of her twenty-three tiny wishes come true._

And that's something he couldn't do if he continued to lay there.

Zack greedily sucked in air; pulling it in even if it _sinfully _hurt to do it. He wasn't drowning anymore at least; but he certainly can still taste the iron-rich build of blood sitting in his throat. He didn't let it deter him though; not in the least.

He coughed; his chest heaving and moving as it should. It vibrated with his grunt, his belly moving as his diaphragm shuddered with each inhale. Soon, he was _breathing _again; wondering why in all the many layers of Hell he was able to draw breathe as he was. He blinked next; his eye-sight foggy but clearing in steady waves. Sobriety reached out and clasped him; helping him rise bit by bit.

"Careful now," it said. "A little at a time."

_Oh. Wait a second here; sobriety doesn't have a voice-_

_...Fuck. Why do I hope that's freakin' Yuffie and my brain is too discombobulated to properly correct it?_

Zack stopped mid-way, his skin pimpling in rising goose-flesh as he remembered the familiar warmth creeping back into him. He inhaled gustily again; finding a strange sense of _ease _with the effort. Confusion was moving in now; leaving the man to stumble as he was forcefully pulled to his fullest height.

"There!" said the lovely voice. "You feeling okay now?"

Zack gulped, swallowing back that disgusting build-up of metallic fluid and slowly inclining his head to take in the slim figure beside him.

Yup. Definitely not Yuffie.

Aerith Gainsborough stood side-by-side with him, blinking doe-like back at him in quizzical inspection. Her carved emeralds for eyes shone brilliantly in their own way; not at all artificial like Zack or Cloud's mako-charged stares.

"Better?" she said gently, making as if to move away from him.

_...HOLY FUCK!_

Zack bolted away from her, jumping frantically against the wall and heaving like he ran yet another marathon. He huffed and coughed a few times in his haste, but managed to reclaim control over his body quickly enough to leave him even more confused than before. He looked himself over briefly, and then firmly arrested his eyes back on the pretty woman in front of him.

Seeing his questioning stare, Aerith smiled shyly at him and said, "I uh... I healed you, before you ask. You were kinda... How do I put it?"

_Dying? _He thought sarcastically.

"-Suffocating," she added next as if she was reading his mind. Not that she could of course, but Zack was certainly paranoid of her weird powers at this point. "-Hm. From what I could see," she continued with. "-Your fit, or whatever that was, happened because of a build-up of fluid from your unhealed and now re-opened wounds in and out on your body. You really need to take it easy."

"Looks to me like you ditched the hospital early," said another beside her. Yuffie folded her arms, shaking her head and giving Aerith a long-suffering sigh. "Still wish you coulda let me take off his mask."

"That be violating his privacy, Yuffie. Its not nice," she said with polite firmness.

"Ugh. Man you're too nice for your own good," the smaller girl groaned. "Like, don't you ever get tired of people walking all over you for that?"

"I don't let them do that to me," she replied with stout measure. The woman then gently placed her hands hips primly. "-And that's not important right now: You gave this poor man the runaround with that stunt you pulled. What did you do to get him to come after you without his medical gear?"

"Uh..."

Zack's chest was done settling now; and he couldn't help his confusion about it. He thought he needed his respirator at first, but even now he _almost _felt just as good as he did before his hospitalization.

He was breathing so _easily _that it felt like several tons of weight was tangibly lifted from his shoulders and chest. No longer did it feel like he'd been hit with a car; or bull-dozed by an enraged Sephiroth. His chest felt _his _again, and it seemed only little Aerith had been able to heal it so.

_So... what did she do to me exactly? _He pondered, flabbergasted as he was.

Zack didn't remove his mask per se, but he did lift it enough to expose his mouth and turned his head away from the two. He honked up a large lob of blood and spat; wiping his lip free and placing the mask back. He drew himself up and dusted his pants off, checking for all of his materia next while the girls quarreled. Once he was satisfied with his inventory check, he went to leave without another word; knowing Cissnei was likely waiting back at the alley.

"Hey, wait," Aerith called back after him.

Zack stopped, looking over his shoulder while carefully not exposing his face.

"You uh," she started, her voice suddenly fainter. "I healed what I could, but there's some damage to your chest that I couldn't get rid of. It should be easier to breathe now, but anymore action would probably make it permanent." She casted her gaze towards the ground somewhat demurely. "Sorry I couldn't make it all go away. If it had been newer, maybe I could've healed it more."

Zack blinked at her, feeling his throat go dry and another lump build where the previous was. God how he suddenly felt like _crying_.

"I dunno what an injured Shinra operative like you is doing, but you really should be more careful," she meandered on. "And, I'm sorry about my friend here; I'm sure _she didn't mean it_," she emphasized at the end.

"Ugh. I said I'm sorry!' Yuffie harrumphed.

"Don't apologize to me," she retorted, somehow sounding like a lecturing mother doing so. "Apologize to this man for whatever you did."

Zack forced down a chuckle; reminded of the time his wallet had been stolen when he first met Aerith. _Its somehow not surprising to see her helping me again, in similar circumstances_, was his next thought. _She never seems to mind helping complete strangers._

Yuffie garbled at the older woman indignantly, but seemed to relent and turned to face Zack fully. She bowed from the waste; surprising him in the gesture. "I'm sorry," she began. She then added robotically, as if she mentally rehearsed it, "It was wrong of me to stress you out over something so stupid."

Zack decided to humor the brat, turning to face them fully and dipping his own head in turn. He didn't want to appear so intimidating or enemy-like; so he slumped his shoulders as well and nodded in a mute effort to betray his forgiveness.

Aerith turned towards Yuffie and acknowledged the apology herself, humming approvingly. "Good," she said. "Now, let's get back to Cloud before he starts looking for us-"

"Ya mean before he comes looking for _you_-" Yuffie rolled her eyes.

"What was that?" Aerith airily pressed.

"Nothing!"

Yuffie scampered off, going to lead the woman away. However, said flower girl didn't take her leave immediately; blinking thoughtfully and returning her attention to the masked man across from her. Zack meanwhile let his mind linger on the younger girl's parting words, feeling some cold inkling creep into his already churning gut.

_The Hell did she mean by that?_

"Hey uh," Aerith started, keeping her gaze at the ground. She suddenly looked timid, her hands wandering to her chest in a tic born of her anxiety. "I wanted to say, thank you for your help back there on the boat," she did look at him more directly at this, her smile small but genuine. "I know you were helping us then; when we were trying to keep it from sinking... And when you protected Yuffie and Red from the monster too... But I can't help wondering-"

_Here it comes._

"Are you really a Turk?" she asked gingerly, afraid to chase him off with the query. "I mean, I think I've met the majority by now, but clearly you're new or something- Or somehow involved. I dunno how."

Her crystalline eyes moved to his chest then, as if pondering the injuries there, "Frankly, you're also too injured to be out and about," she added as an after-thought. "I wouldn't think Tseng would let one of his own do this kind of thing unless its for a _really _good reason. As it was, I'm aware of Reno being bedridden from injury. Why would he exempt you in this case?"

Zack weighed the query, knowing the answer yet somehow didn't at the same time. In truth, he really wasn't a Turk; but would Garm tell her that? Maybe- Garm _was _presumed to be a Turk-in-training after all. Then again, it really wasn't a Turk's place to give info unless they _were _Tseng; and really, it wasn't like Zack _should _say anything at all.

He didn't know how different he may sound to her, but he hoped he wouldn't be recognizable either way. But he also didn't want to be rude to her by ignoring her query and risk alienating her before his mission could really begin in earnest. And if he had to be _really _honest with himself, a part of him was grossly afraid of speaking at all:

So how would he respond to this predicament? _Should _he say anything at all? Walking away seemed most correct, but it troubled Zack more than he cared to admit- especially after _she saved his freaking life just now_.

He had to make a choice eventually, no matter how crude it was.

The man turned his head away from the girl, pondering his response. He prayed to whatever god was listening that his _delicately _chosen words were good enough to satisfy the girl's rampant curiosity for the moment. So, he thickened his voice to a near-gravelly state and breathed through his steel respirator:

_"Thank you."_

And then he was leaping away, gone to the roof tops with a feline grace he couldn't employ before her intervention. As he cloaked himself from her prying, abnormally omniscient-looking eyes, still he felt her gaze linger on his retreating form- no matter his lack of visibility.


	7. The Raven, the Flower, and the Wolf

_**VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_

_**Please keep in mind, I've referenced and used information from not just Crisis Core, but Before Crisis as well in this chapter. Some of the details are different- and its deliberate.**_

_**For those of you who don't know about the events of Before Crisis, here's a summarized version for you: A big Turk-related shit-storm that ended up leaving literally only four 'active' members of the branch underneath Rufus' command in Shinra. Every other member was presumed to be dead or otherwise after the events of the Before Crisis (or at least I think so). These events supposedly explain why we only ever did get to see four Turks in active service in the movie and original game. Every member like 'Nunchaku', Balto, or others are undercover in this story; while Tseng's little posse of four aren't.**_

_** I deliberately included a fifth in Tseng's group- Cissnei, as it were, to fit this story's plot. If you're still confused, I recommend looking it up on the wiki or something, because I'm not someone whose good at explaining stuff and have a tendency to digress or muddle it up when I don't fully understand the story myself. Pretty much what I said is the easiest way for me to understand because I've never played Before Crisis.**_

_**Anyways, I hope you enjoy what I have here. I worked REALLY hard on it, and I want you guys to all enjoy it. Please leave reviews or pm me about Before Crisis if you see something here that seems like an error or discrepancy. I'll happily try to fix it or clear it up if I can. **_

* * *

~777~

The helicopter landed in the vacant stretches of Nibel fields; its trumpeting gale screaming across the verdant pastures and flattening the waves of green and gold in its thundering wake.

Having borrowed the ride from this Nunchaku (a person Zack had, in fact, _immediately _liked), said ex-SOLDIER knew the rest of the way to the small town had to be covertly traversed by foot. He needed to remain out of sight of the Shinra employees stationed there, according to Cissnei; who'd only be expecting a single Turk for a cursory inspection of the place. Turks came often enough to tend to small security matters or detail on occasion, but usually alone or with only professional help- Never with a recruit or anything of the like.

This said, Zack knew he'd need to stay cloaked pretty much the majority of his time here; dampening his mood somewhat. Cissnei tried to perk him up with the fact that they wouldn't need to be here long- just until they found something valuable of Hojo's documents or until Tseng gave them new orders.

_"Which shouldn't be long," Cissnei had said on their way here. "Tseng's bound for escort duty soon, so he'll be around to send us a new assignment before too long."_

_"I don't suppose this new 'assignment' isn't anything relevant to helping Aerith now, is it?" Zack had gently pressed._

_The girl only shrugged, "I'd think so. He told me through Nunchaku that he's already finishing hammering out a way to get her away from AVALANCHE, but its still not quite sound enough for him." She smiled mystically again, "You know how he is- he won't be happy until he's absolutely sure it can be pulled off with no hiccups."_

_"Go figure," the ex-SOLDIER grumbled. He suddenly wanted to rap his knuckles on the nearest piece of wood for good measure (considering his growing superstition), but nothing was within reach of him. So he settled for thinning his lips and clenching his jaw in a tic that Cissnei quickly learned to recognize as a sign of his consternation._

In the meantime, Zack leaped from the helicopter and surveyed his surroundings, waiting for Cissnei to turn the infernal thing off and join him. Not half a moment later, said girl did just that; coming out the way Zack himself left. When she went to clamber down, Zack kindly offered a hand to help; surprising Cissnei initially. She of course smiled and took the hand, carefully making her way beside him and promptly releasing him next. And then they took off, heading in the general direction of the tiny hamlet about half a mile distant.

Yesterday, when Zack darted off after Yuffie and returned to Cissnei somewhat mollified and wary, the man knew he'd have to tell her what exactly transpired. Haltingly, he gave the baffled and somewhat worried Cissnei a brief run-down of what happened; keeping his head ducked like a chastised child muttering an excuse.

Zack could've lied about it, but he never was any good at it- besides the fact that the Turk girl would easily know he's doing it anyways. On the side, the man never liked lying in the first place; he just couldn't do it with a straight face. So, he tried to gently _omit _some things- like Aerith healing him, but he knew the truth wouldn't elude the girl before long.

On another note, it seemed that when Aerith healed him, she'd completely taken away _every bloody ounce of pain _in his chest. He had no difficulty breathing, and his body moved as it should. It was startlingly jarring; even to a point that Zack kept thinking that if he moved too fast, he'd aggravate his wounds again. But even despite his haste to return to Cissnei and resume the mission, he found dreadful ease in his movements.

But he still didn't forget Aerith's firm warning on him taking it easy: Knowing that if he truly did get into trouble the next time, the injuries would flare up again; maybe even worse than ever for all he knew. She said something about some aspect of it being permanent; but he couldn't remember what due to his frazzled nerves.

At least for the moment, when he finally did find the girl in the ally where he left their belongings, he'd noted Cissnei's stern but softly concerned expression and hoped it was a good sign. He fired into a long explanation next; she merely taking in his words and not trying to squeeze every iota of detail from him. However, Zack couldn't help but cringe when he saw her mocha eyes flash and her expression shift into stony flatness. He felt like he failed some sort of test here, although he didn't know of what kind per se.

When he finished his story, Cissnei had only asked him this:

_"Did they see you?"_

_"Huh?"_

_The girl's expression grew somewhat harder, "Did they see your __**eyes**__?"_

_"Uh, no. I don't think they did," he answered honestly, seeing how the girls would've asked if he'd originally worked for SOLDIER- Yuffie was ballsy enough to be in your face about it as it is._

Again, Zack wasn't so sure, but he tried to reason that yes, they truly didn't look _too_ closely. Aerith had respected his privacy (and he graciously thanked her for it); and it wasn't like during his exchange with Yuffie he'd let the girl get close enough to see his face. She'd only been able to get the chance to see while he'd been in the middle of his fit.

_So no, they possibly didn't see_, he figured.

Possibly.

_But, it still didn't eliminate whether or not Cloud said anything to them, _murmured that one voice Zack always hated listening too. But again, back on the boat, it wasn't like Cloud had been close enough to actually see him really, right?

Whatever the case, Cissnei had thankfully let the topic go and sighed, as if mutely ashamed of herself. She'd handed Zack a small box of articles, and apologized for the wait as well. "I took too long," she added, as if blaming herself for Zack's inadvertent misadventure. "Sorry about that."

When Zack opened the box on the helicopter, he found weather-appropriate, cooler, lighter clothes and a pair of badass-looking red-tinted goggles. Why red? He didn't know, but he supposed its meant to disguise his eye color for situations like what just transpired. It was a little late, but it couldn't be helped.

Speaking of said goggles, back in the present, he fitted them over his eyes (just because he loved them anyways) and continued to walk placidly beside his Turk companion; absently mulling over how well Cloud and Aerith could be right now. He of course let that thought trickle away as a silent dread began to leaden his feet and drag his legs the closer he got to Nibelheim. He didn't know why he felt this anxious so suddenly, but he guessed his being so close to a well-guarded town manned exclusively by a small army of Shinra supporters had something to do with it.

_No pressure._

Once the two-some arrived moments later, Zack cloaked himself and followed Cissnei quietly behind. He tip-toed right in her stead, matching his every ginormous foot with every one of her smaller ones in an attempt to stay absolutely inconspicuous.

The town was eerily quiet; not unlike the very first time Zack had visited the place on assignment five years prior. He didn't see any people around, but he knew that didn't mean they weren't _watching_. He certainly felt that inkling creep of overwrought dread icing his spine, his finer hairs sticking up on the back of his neck.

Cissnei purposely let herself be seen by walking fairly close to the water-tower; the focal point of the village. She then bee-lined towards the hotel, motioning subtly behind her back: _Stay here._ Zack paused at the door, whilst Cissnei went in to briefly talk to the inn-keeper. Zack managed to pick up snatches of their conversation; Cissnei booking the room upstairs for a few nights. She finished promptly and strode out, signaling Zack to continue following her.

Next, the duo headed towards the one and only Shinra manor, the humongous mansion sitting right where the outskirts of the town began. The behemoth building was marred by time; worn, rickety and creaky where its conveniently most creepy. But somehow, still standing despite its _many _years standing vigil over the hushed town of Nibelheim.

_Like some sort of ghastly memory nobody can seem to shake off_, Zack grimaced as he approached it.

The doors were hard and heavy to push open; Zack helped Cissnei a bit by lightly shoving the perversely recent wooden slab forward. Apparently, the manor was used often enough so that Shinra saw fit to replace the damn doors whenever they felt so inclined. The manor was left unattended to on the outside in large part; to deliberately look dilapidated and unused to encourage people to stay out. However, the interior (when in use by that grease-bag Hojo) was carefully cleaned and tended to here and there.

And such an observation only served to infuriate Zack, whose jaw tightened further.

"Don't uncloak yet," Cissnei suddenly spoke up from beside him in a whisper. "We need to make sure there isn't anyone here running any new projects."

Zack snorted, the sound not unlike the huff of a large, carnivorous animal snuffling at it's cage.

The girl stayed ahead of him, carefully masking her steps as she walked up the stairway towards the second level in the foyer. Zack timed his own to match hers every time her shoes rapped, attempting to conceal the magnified tap of his steel-toed boots. He's already gotten used to doing this as it was, and it annoyed him in some ways.

_One day, my steps will be my own again_, was the next thought that intrusively came to him.

They made it to the guest rooms on the right side of the building, but Zack was a little shocked to see the interior hasn't been recently dusted. Hopefully, its a good sign that no one was currently occupying this place.

Cissnei went to the stone wall, carefully guiding her dainty finger-tips through the numerous cobbled cracks in an effort to find the one that gave. Zack however already knew what to look for grimly enough, so he boldly strode forward and leaned past her; his gloved tips expertly finding the fissure that marked the door's frame. His larger fingers had a slightly tougher time, but he found the catch meant to serve as a lock. It behaved like a tiny, atypical lift-latch; complete with the echoing click and creak as the door slid eerily in place.

Cissnei finished pushing the door to the side; the heavy stone banging obnoxiously loudly as it groaned open. It fit into the slot of its frame on the left, a weighty slab that heralded their arrival with a resonating boom bouncing around the spiraling stairs. The two didn't go in immediately, instead stopping to listen for any voices or abnormal sound that could betray the whereabouts of any obscure personnel in the lower vicinity.

When no such noise came, the pair trekked carefully down the aged spiral, the wooden boards crackling in all of the rightfully wrong ways to assuredly unnerve Zack. Cissnei was just as wary; gritting her teeth as her expensive shoes clacked against them. They couldn't have moved any faster in their shared opinion, and it actually compelled Zack to use his levitation materia to lighten himself; knowing his near one-ninety-something (he didn't exactly remember) didn't need to add to Cissnei's more slight one-twenty.

They shared a breather at the bottom, shaking their heads and grumbling. Cissnei compiled a quick note in her phone about reminding personnel to replace some of those boards later, much to Zack's irritated chagrin. To be honest, a little part of him wouldn't mind burning the whole place down once they're done here; ignoring the town outside of it of course.

_Yeah. Maybe I will burn this stupid manor down. Eventually._

Cissnei put her phone away and lead on, making sure to carefully scan the area next. Both briefly split off in the dusty tunnels and surveyed the basement, straining their ears and various other senses in the process. Once, Zack stopped in front of a certain room in particular, noticing an irregularity with its door. Zack planted his hands on his hips and carefully inspected it, noticing with a start that an outrageously _heavy _series of locks and chains were criss-crossing the whole thing. From floor to ceiling and over again, its truly an odd sight.

-Especially since he recalled opening this very door five years prior, and finding a sleeping... _something_, what or whom-ever it was, hiding in one of the coffins behind said door.

"Nobody's around," Cissnei called out rather blithely, making Zack jump. He darted his head towards her, and noticed her walking from the room furthest down the crypt. _The main lab, _the man remembered with an involuntary shiver.

"Its safe now, so you can uncloak," she added with a smile next.

Zack harrumphed and uncloaked, lowering his hood, goggles, and respirator plate. He folded his arms in answer next, feeling his hackles rise. "Yeah, well... Its about as safe as a mad scientist's laboratory can be," he groused next. He returned his attention to the absurdly reinforced door. "And uh, however safe a morgue is too," he decided to add pointedly.

The girl shrugged, although she did seem somewhat repentant of her rather crass choice of words. She stopped beside Zack and inspected the door, raising an earthy brow and humming. "Strange," she said next. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone mention this door during their last inspection."

"You have any idea of what's inside?" Zack inquired amicably, keeping his timbre carefully flat. He seriously wanted to know if any of the Turks knew what the thing inside was, and wasn't sure how he'd feel if his current partner knew and was purposely keeping this information to herself.

Thankfully, even Cissnei had the graces to appear stumped, shaking her head and folding her own limbs in a mirror of Zack's. "No idea," she replied in earnest, her nose wrinkling. Zack couldn't help his quizzical tilt as she went on, "I think Sir knew, but he never tells. He's always been like that- its where Tseng gets it I think."

"Uh... 'Sir'?" Zack inquired, hoping for clarification.

"Our seventh man," she replied cryptically. "-The one helping coordinate our whole mission. At the moment, we're supposed to refer to him as 'Septimus', but..." She sighed then, "We usually just end up using the title 'Sir' when we talk to or mention him. Never really found any other working titles- he says they draw too much attention anyways."

Zack frowned, a little miffed by this vague smidgen of insight. "So like," he started. "Ambiguity is your key, right?"

"More like, our prime weapon of choice," she smiled again, only this time its her more signature, self-satisfied one. "You're learning," she added with a hint of what Zack hoped was pride.

Zack bowed his head and scratched at the back, shuffling a bit on his feet. Still, he suddenly couldn't help the random streak of confusion when he realized his question regarding this 'Sir' was being politely diverted with a compliment. He abruptly stopped his head-scratching at that, blinking in brief realization.

_Wait... Did she just-?_

Before he could continue weighing that thought, Cissnei's voice brought him back to the original topic of their conversation, "Whatever the case, we should get right into the mission. Might as well capitalize on the lack of Shinra here."

"...Operation: find anything relevant to Sephiroth and get the fuck outta here A.S.A.P. Right," Zack nodded, turning. He decided to let that earlier idea pass for the moment, but he knew he'd eventually ask about this 'Sir' again at a later time.

"-What, you're not going to try to goad me into letting you open this door or something?" Cissnei suddenly pressed out of the blue.

"You said you don't know anything about this, and obviously trying to force my way in would violate our 'get in, grab, and go' mission, right?" He said rather mildly over his shoulder. He raised a brow at her, wondering if she was trying to get to a point. To be _really _honest though, he was probing her now; wondering what he could or couldn't do- Like a child pressing his buttons with his parents (and something he usually did with people like Angeal once upon a time).

-Not that many people have ever succeeded in stopping Zack once he felt like doing something, but that was besides the point.

Just then, Cissnei's next smile was the more rare, but more lurid curl of lips that seemed far more attractive than her typical Turk mask. It rightfully baffled the man, taking him abruptly off guard.

"-I've said this before, but I think it should be reiterated," she genially said, her cinnamon eyes warm. "-Your superiors never really gave you enough credit. You supposedly had this, 'legendary' flimsy focus that usually turn your assignments tits-up. Yet so far, you haven't really done much to disappoint," she lightly mused. "-I mean, with the exception of what happened yesterday, which was an accident of sorts, I don't think I've really ever seen many strikes on your records to begin with."

Again, Zack tilted his head. "Huh?"

The girl seemed to nod to something, but then she started back towards the main lab, throwing over her shoulder, "Most of the time, your supposed 'failures' were a result of something that usually just spun out of control, or had rogue outliers like Genesis to botch it. Even _Sephiroth _of all people vouched for you, and never has anyone seen him offer another person's name."

She made it to the door, smiling as if she truly was _comprehending_ this info in earnest after merely excepting it at face value after so long. She turned, her smile still a prominent feature on her pretty face, "You know, despite what Tseng says, I think you might actually have some potential as a genuine Turk recruit after all- With a little refining of course."

Zack gave a good and hearty snort, finding the compliment more ludicrous than anything. The sincerity of it though did have him floundering on his feet, and he was left fighting that random warmth on his cheeks. Internally, he couldn't help but suddenly _want _to pull the respirator mask back on.

"I doubt that," he jested, mustering a tiny smile despite his formerly despondent mood. "I'm just not somebody who likes doin' this kinda thing as it is."

"Hm... Maybe. But you never know," Cissnei hummed, throwing in a freely casual shrug. "You know, Angeal and Lazard always did say you showed more promise than most SOLDIER candidates that passed through their floors. Can't tell ya how many times we've heard your name on the recommended list whenever we've had to do joint assignments with them; besides Sephiroth's own accounts."

Zack stopped in place, suddenly _eagerly _wanting to know the roots of this praise uttered by big-shots like these aforementioned men. "Really?" he quietly entreated, jumping to stand within Cissnei's bubble without meaning to do so. Excitement threaded his veins, and he couldn't help feeling like an attention-starved child finally receiving his first praise. Truly, Angeal's words meant so much to him- even now. Of course Zack couldn't help his feeling elated at hearing this.

The girl's next smirk was her _coy _one; and a gesture that immediately imparted that she wouldn't be so forthcoming with details. Evasively, she moved around him and said, "Yup" without any further discussion.

The ex-SOLDIER was going to keep on peppering her with questions next, but suddenly found his words turned to ash in his mouth as he re-entered the lab he's spent the better part of four whole years in. He froze in place, a rabbit caught in the glare of an oncoming car.

His abrupt silence brought Cissnei's attention back to him, her own gaze ponderous as she eyed the man from head to toe. "Zack?" she cautiously asked.

"Just got a brainwave," he suddenly blurted, trying to shake off that uneasy sensation after walking into this damned room.

"Oh?"

Zack meandered into the room fully, carefully taking in the rather orderly aisles of books while blatantly ignoring the ominously stained, metal lab tables behind him. He felt trapped suddenly, but he did his damnedest to fight the need to run. So he said in an effort to distract himself, "Sephiroth managed to conveniently find just enough info to go on a rampage with, right? What's to say that stuff wasn't removed during the clean-up?"

Cissnei blinked, shook her head, and placed a hand on her chin as she weighed the possibility. "Even so," she sighed. "-We'd have to look anyways. There's always a chance that someone _may _have missed something."

"Keyword being 'may'," Zack shrugged, his tone bland.

The girl said nothing to that, instead going down the hall while facing the left-hand side and eyeing the order of musty books before her. "Might as well get started," she breathed, already sounding quite exhausted simply by passing a cursory glance through the whole archive. "We've only got so much time before Shinra decides to send in one of their technicians to sort through this stuff again soon. They'll be expecting a report from me before the week's end."

"Wha- Wait. We only have a _week _to sift through _ALL_ this?" He rasped, suddenly feeling pressed for said time.

Cissnei winced at his tone and passed Zack a rather piteous glance, "Tseng tried to ask for more time, but... ya know. A regular inspection of the old house and lab shouldn't take so long to finish..."

"Yeah yeah, I get it," Zack sighed, his arms hanging limply in front of him. "Geez. What a pain in the ass."

"No kidding," said the other. "Unfortunately, that's always been part of the 'charm' of Turk work-" She shuddered, surprising Zack as she muttered under her breath, "Ugh. _Deadlines_."

He snorted at that, "Lemme guess: A Turk's worst fear?"

"You know it."

His smile grew, "Its really no wonder why you guys get paid as much as you do. There's a lotta stress in this job."

"More than you'd expect," Cissnei sardonically chuckled back. "But that's just how it is. At least its manageable, with the right company of course."

"Aw Cissnei. I'm flattered!" Zack puffed up.

The girl rolled her eyes at him, "I wasn't talking about you. You can be a real handful when you want to be."

The man just kept on grinning. "Betcha you were thinking of me anyways," he added with a waggle of the brows.

"Whatever puts you to sleep at night," she dismissed with an earnest smirk.

With that said, the girl turned towards the book shelves, mentally running through the majority and likely cataloging their arrangement.

Zack's smile died in the meantime, and then his energy seeped away as he gravely faced his own side of the hall. "So it begins," he muttered.

_-A very long, very tedious, sleepless, and time consuming mission to basically find Sephiroth's past, _He realized as he began to sift through them._ Given we find anything at all_, was his next thought. _God. Might as well call this 'Zack's greatest challenge' yet: Studying random books covering every subject ever while trying not to fall asleep in a haunted mansion! _

_...Minerva, kill me now._

The man pulled a ginormous tome from the top-most shelf, noting the title and quickly shaking his head. He let out a grunt and put it back not two seconds later.

_Yup, this is going to take a while, _he quickly surmised. Zack knew that he had some sort of attention-related problem; and his mom bitched at him about it as a kid and tried to get him medicated for it. To say the least, it never worked out.

However, several years ago, Angeal rigorously tried over and over to get his pupil to concentrate on more than just his physical routine- To no avail. To try and identify Zack's major malfunction here, he handed the affectionately and recently named 'pup' a heavy-ass book and told him to finish it in a week- And that's when he learned about it; quickly finding ways to work Zack through his apparent weakness.

And ever since then, Zack had indeed done much better in keeping his attention arrested on what needed to be done. Even to this day, the ex-SOLDIER still couldn't help but feel connected to the man as well as be grateful for what his teacher did for him. Angeal sometimes felt more like family to him than his own parents at times- Not that Zack was throwing them under the bus of course. It just so happened that Angeal had been the firm hand he needed to get his butt (and his life) together. Even his own biological father couldn't do that.

The old memory of his mentor instilled a weighted sense of melancholy upon him; but its something Zack learned to deal with over time. Instead, he continued with his work, finding a book that's more or less what he's looking for. He gently took it off the top shelf, waving off the dust that suddenly floated into his face. He then plopped his ass down onto the cold hard floor; sifting through the table of contents and frowning.

Cissnei remained standing across from him, leaning her weight against the shelves with a hand glued to her chin. Before long, even she'd found a seat down the hall and began to rifle through her newly acquired stack of books. Zack sometimes flipped his eyes up to watch her, just to give himself something else to stare at other than the creepy old source of Sephiroth's madness.

Yeah. Better not go there.

_...Soon Aerith, soon, _he sighed as he fought the need to yawn. _I'll come back for you. I promise._

_...Right after I die of boredom here. God dammit._

* * *

~777~

The flower girl couldn't help her exhausted sigh, flustered as she were with her previous encounter.

Aerith was currently lying in a bed, watching the bland, egg-shell colored ceiling in an disinterested daze after a hard day's walking. Through the Corel Plateau, its been a wondrously painful experience on foot, with AVALANCHE doing their damnedest to try to find a decent town to stay in for the night. Aerith never really complained, but even _she _had something to say about the blisters on her _other _blisters; right on the parts of her feet where she put the most pressure. But that was besides the point.

_Although..._

Yuffie had been giving Aerith some rather strange looks ever since they left the Costa Del Sol; when the elder woman told Yuffie to not go around blurting out what she discovered about their strange interloper. Yuffie harrumphed and badgered her about the secrecy, but Aerith had her own personal reasons for it. Yuffie then asked the flower girl if she could at least tell Cloud about the man's condition; but again, Aerith dissuaded it.

_"Its his own personal business," Aerith primly stated to the grumbling girl. "Obviously, he doesn't want anyone to know about it."_

_"But he's a Shinra DUDE," Yuffie groaned as if its reason enough. "Its not like respecting his 'personal biz' is gonna justify his stalking us! If Cloud knew, maybe he could-"_

_"-Could what?" Aerith daintily planted her hands on her hips, hardening her stare into 'lecturing mother mode' again. "Why would telling Cloud about someone's medical infirmity benefit him or anyone else for that matter?"_

_The ninja exaggeratedly slumped her shoulders, her expression slightly mollified. "I dunno," she babbled, relenting to an extent. "I just... I thought- UGH." Her arms went up next, "Aerith, seriously! This guy could be __**dangerous! **__You saw his materia! And like, he's SUPER shifty too- staying disguised all the time, hanging 'round the Turks. __Its weird enough that he's following us!"_

_"He's not doing it anymore," Aerith gesticulated to to the wide, open terrain around them; the land that sat between the Costa Del Sol and the coal mountains of Corel. The others were sitting camped around some make-shift fire-pit nearby, taking a break from the laborious walking. _

_"-It just so happens that he's not interested in us," Aerith proceeded with. "I think he's after Sephiroth just as much as we are."_

_The younger girl snorted, "May I remind you that he's still WITH THE TURKS? He could very well be going after not just Sephiroth, but __**you**__! I'm telling ya, he isn't someone we should be goin' around helping just 'cause he's got a boo-boo or something!"_

_"You're the one who went to get me when he wasn't getting any air," Aerith sharply reminded her, doing her best to keep her voice perfectly and patiently modulated. The flower girl was usually pretty good at doing just this; keeping a conversation calm and relatively on track. But sometimes, even Yuffie keeps the older woman on her toes._

_"UGH," the mulish ninja pattered in place, pumping her arms at random targets in her frustration. She turned back to Aerith and retaliated with, "You know fully well what the heck I'm getting at! I'm telling ya, he's no good-!"_

And admittedly, yes, Aerith has considered this and would've whole-heartedly agreed with Yuffie on the matter; if she'd found the reason to. This man was indeed someone whose clearly no stranger to the irregular nature of the Shinra work quota, so of course he's still suspect. He was also, very, _**very **_suspicious; staying hidden from the main Shinra brass themselves. So yes, maybe he was a threat in disguise.

But still, Aerith couldn't help but feel like the man wasn't really as dangerous as Yuffie was making him out to be.

On the boat, Rufus had wandered around and supervised the workers as they all fought to keep the vessel afloat. But every time he came around Cissnei and her mysterious compatriot, the man vanished without a trace; and with no sign that he'd want people to know about him. In fact, the more Aerith considered it, the less like a Turk he was.

So yes, Yuffie did have a point about this guy's suspicious demeanor here, and Aerith wasn't going to contradict it. However, it didn't have anything to do with blurting out that man's condition to random people and friends; which had been the point of that whole tiresome conversation.

-Not that Cloud was just any random person though, on the side.

If Aerith had to be really honest with herself however, she wanted to protect that man's condition simply because she's someone who believed that this kind of information should be allowed to stay with the individual. Its sensitive, and her mother raised her better than that. She didn't conceal it because she wanted too, or to spite any of the individuals in her party- There just wasn't any benefit to giving it out so freely amongst her friends. Aerith wasn't a gossiper by nature.

And really, Aerith was someone who earnestly tried her best to help the people around her in any way she could; in big or small ways. As an example, she may not claim to be a professional, but she nonetheless supplied help (and medicine) if she had it. Back in the slums, she sometimes even went to get it for a neighbor if it really boiled down to it; even going as far as the upper plate to do so.

Maybe she _was _too nice for her good, but Aerith was content with it anyway.

She self-taught herself medical application, taught herself how to make basic remedies, all because she figured knowing it was better than not knowing. Her neighbors in the slums had no access to help anyways, so why _not _her? So, she ended up developing the mind-set that she should safely keep the information regarding her clients to herself; as any respectable medic would. This kind of ability has thankfully given Aerith the know-how on how to help AVALANCHE in recent days, so it was all paying off.

On a side note, the idea to become the neighborhood 'doctor' came to her five years ago to be exact; coming to her in the form of the endlessly energetic, wonderful young man who always came to see her whenever he could. Its from that first time onward since he returned from a particularly crappy mission that she began to learn how to apply medicinal aid. Her boyfriend's job was hazardous; and that within itself was another contributor to her motivation to becoming the slum's go-to gal.

_Those poor souls had no one else, after all._

Aerith wound up floating about the slums as a result, trying to find any decent books on medicine that could've been thrown out. Sometimes, Zack would bring her the books she needed, should she fail to find any. He'd throw in a carelessly cheeky one-liner or suggestive entendre for shits and giggles every time he did though.

Tangents aside, the bitch of it was that Yuffie didn't seem to understand Aerith's feelings on keeping the strange man's secrets. The younger girl simply saw a Shinra employee doing his dastardly work; a plausible threat that could very well _end them _if he ever felt so inclined. Aerith understood that. Thankfully enough though, this strange man never gave Aerith the inkling; but even _she_ knew better than to wholly dismiss this beyond the initial meetings.

Aerith rolled over and blankly regarded the wall to her right, her somewhat worn night-gown twisting about in her movements. She heaved another sigh, doing her best to try to measure the man's character based on his two, simple words he imparted to her.

_"Thank you."_

His two, measly little words betrayed this much: Clearly, he's adverse to talking, but he certainly wasn't a mute. He seemed almost afraid of his own words; like they'd betray him somehow. If that had been the case though, he could've easily left her without a single word in edgewise. And yet, he didn't want to appear rude to her; meaning that he seems to share some semblance of earnest kindness. Of what kind though was what stood in question.

The small, collective moments Aerith stood around him though, she noticed his loud, raspy breathing and ragged sigh he'd give every time he went into an abrupt standstill. Its as if years of enduring various battles had long since worn him down. She couldn't say for sure, but its the impression she got from him. He certainly seemed to have this professional, if not combative nature somewhere within him too; and it concreted his link to Shinra.

Although, if even this nameless man was trying so desperately to stay out of even freaking _Rufus' _line of sight, then what is his link to Shinra really? Had he been in one of its many military divisions at one point? Was he really a Turk in training? An ex-SOLDIER like Cloud?

_...A deserter, perhaps? _

Even if he was, that still brought along another slew of questions and plausibilities that only bogged down the flower girl further. He's trained, that much was evident, but nothing else Aerith had figured had seemed so obvious.

Despite all of this though, there's this one, irritating question that, above all else was truly tying her in knots:

Why the heck was _she _of all people so worked up about this one random hooded dude anyway? Maybe he really _was _some new Turk that's just trying to get his pay-check, or a SOLDIER in some sort of secret joint operation. Maybe he was a new Black Ops operative she nor Zack had never heard of-?

Aerith sighed again, deciding to try to put the matter to rest. She'd tried time and time again to simply put the subject aside, especially after speaking with this guy just _yesterday_, but her mind just wouldn't let it go.

No. Not her mind... But the _other_, all-encompassing something she never gave name nor face to. This unlabeled something; this presence, was a _force _she could never put a name too- Because she knew this same force was the budding sensation that's an echo of the planet's many voices.

Whatever the case, the unworded will of the planet told her that this man, weirdly enough, was an individual she need not fear. From this man, she lacked that usual and expected sense of danger she normally got from other members of Shinra; like the Turks or the Security Department that sometimes passed her by. Even normal passerby people in the streets sometimes gave her this alert sense of foreboding, but not this _strange, hooded man in particular._

She just wasn't getting _any vibe _from this guy, and that's what unnerved her.

Indeed. Its this man's lack of any negative sensation whatsoever that really stumped Aerith. Somehow, she could just _feel _this man's gentle demeanor. His secrecy was simply a tic born of his need to survive; not at all unlike Cloud's. The two were remarkably similar in such a way- and that's why she felt like she couldn't let this topic go.

This said, she felt like she could safely talk to him; and she really, truly, _genuinely_ wanted to know who he was and not who he works for. And that last time she did such a thing, she'd roped in a real charmer (self-proclaimed) like Zack Fair five years back. Her friendship with Cloud was, again, similar in this way too. When she first met the blond, she was immediately drawn to him as she had been with her boyfriend. If she had this same feeling about this stranger as she does with these two aforementioned men, then surely she could approach him and make a friend out of him?

_This man shouldn't have anything to do with Shinra- Not if his heart is like Cloud's or Zack's. _

Aerith always regretted not being able to get Zack to quit. She always somehow felt that maybe, his job actually _did _catch up to him, and she simply never learned about it. After all, the story went as, "He got deployed, and never returned" kinda deal. She told Cloud as much, and its a story that befell her mother too when when Aerith had been a child. A soft part of her would rather believe Zack simply moved on to another woman- it would be hard to accept, but its easier than believing the alternative...

After all, why else had he never returned a single letter? He never came off as someone who wouldn't at least tell her if he found someone else. Zack always tried his best to see her, even when he wasn't supposed to. So the only thing that could explain his abrupt silence could've been if his last assignment went F.U.B.A.R.

_Stop thinking about it._

Aerith abruptly sat up on her bed, heaved another one of those heavy sighs for the umpteenth time that night, and headed towards the exit to the women's shared room. Not too far from her, on the bed neighboring hers, lie a sleeping Tifa; who hadn't shifted a single muscle throughout the flower girl's ruminating. Yuffie wasn't present, which made Aerith suspicious, but she supposed that the ninja girl was a night owl by nature or something- She had a tendency to stay up even later than Tifa as it were.

Aerith tip-toed towards the door and cracked it open, creeping silently out on ghostly stride. Keeping her wits about her, she listened really, _really carefully _for any oncoming foot-fall or voices of any other patrons here at this inn. When she got wind of no such noise, she shut the door behind her and glided down the hall; suddenly needing air.

She managed to get outside quickly enough; heading into a stairway and climbing them to the top of the three-story building in quick fashion. The Inn wasn't completely huge or glamorous, but big enough to be comfortable and adequate for the entire party. So it stood to reason that the somewhat cheap hotel had a means for some of its customers to find a place to think should they need it. A smoke area, as it were.

She found the door to the roof unlocked, and suddenly wasn't surprised to see a patron smoking something not too far away. This scrawny, too-tanned individual remained ignorant of Aerith, coolly leaning his weight on the railing surrounding the roof.

However, what did somewhat surprise Aerith was the fact that she saw that this man wasn't the only one here at this unholy hour.

Red XIII was lying on a bench over to the right side of the roof, his furry spine facing the girl. His Mohawk-ridged mane rippled subtly in the near non-existent breeze, his fiery tail-tip waggling quite lazily on occasion. His somewhat tufted ears twitched once, but did nothing more as Aerith began to make her way over to him.

"Hello youngling," he greeted formally as she stopped beside him, finding herself a seat against the bench rather than sitting in it.

"Hey," she hummed back, smiling gingerly. "Couldn't sleep?"

The canine-feline quadruped shrugged, barely twitching his hackles to indicate his casual response. "Barret snores rather loudly," was his next reply. "Cloud has a tendency to talk in his sleep too, but its not what's keeping me up. Besides, I find ease when I'm outside, under the moon."

Aerith looked up, finding the spherical specter waxing nearly to its fullest over-head. "Cloud talks in his sleep?" she went on quizzically.

"That he does," chuckled the other. "Mind you, I try to give him his privacy and leave every time he starts it."

"Oh," Aerith giggled at the picture it painted, nodding to the creature in amiable acceptance.

"I could move, if you wish," he quietly added.

Aerith waved him off there, "You don't have to. I didn't plan on staying out here too long."

"Ah."

The girl pressed her back against the arm-rest of the bench, reaching an arm up and over to lightly touch the creature's warm, russet fur. He may be of a rather queerly humanoid intellect, but it didn't save him from the attentions Aerith liked to give him; like petting his ears or tapping his moist nose when he's being too blunt. Clearly, it annoyed him, but he never told Aerith _not _to do it.

This time around, Aerith contentedly stroked the lines of hair around the base of his ears; sometimes wandering to the appendages themselves and tracing along their shape. She got a twitch on occasion, but then she moved her finger-tips elsewhere. She hoped he liked it, even just a little.

His next low words were a ginger murmur, almost entirely lost in the dancing sigh of the next passerby zephyr. He didn't look at her as he said it, but he needn't bother. "You're troubled," he said.

Aerith gave a non-committal hum, dazedly watching her hands carefully maneuver through the rusty brilliance of the creature's pelt. She dreamily weighed her thoughts, trying to find the courage to speak despite the quadruped's gentle nudge. Red said nothing else thankfully, and Aerith inwardly appreciated it. To be really honest though, Aerith found a rather abnormal amount of comfort in touching the fur; like one would find in petting a purring cat.

Slow minutes ticked away in this manner, and nearby, the smoker from earlier stomped out his cigar and headed back towards the door leading to the stair-way. Once he was gone, that's when Aerith found her gumption to put voice her recent woe.

"I've been thinking," she meandered on in a low murmur. "What did you think of the masked man we saw with the Turk? Did you detect anything odd about him?"

Red showed no surprise or judgement on her particular choice in topic, settling instead for amicable neutrality. "I smell more than I see nowadays," he told her in a low rumble, his one eye catching the moon's light rather pointedly.

"And, what did you smell?" she said while trying not to pry, but not quite helping her query.

The animal blinked, his gaze very much more owlish than the creature in comparison. His deep chest thrummed with his thoughtful rumble, his ears giving a cursory flick as he settled on what he felt were the most apt words. "Hm... If I had to say, perhaps not unlike death," was his abjectly horrible, perverted, yet carefully chosen words. "Like a warrior who shouldn't be here."

Aerith was forced to recall Sephiroth's words, when he first detected the presence of the Turk and the man in question. _"-The failures, the deceivers," _he'd said. _"-I feel them here. One stands plainly before me, but hides in a shroud of lies; feeding himself his delusions. The other concealed in darkness, a cowardly husk with death stalking close behind."_

These words, however skew, couldn't have been too far off the margin. When Sephiroth quoted on the one _plainly _before him, surely (literally) he meant Cloud? If he did, she didn't quite understand the rest of the mumbo-jumbo. Still, it wasn't like he was commenting on Cissnei, who'd been cloaked like her partner.

And speaking of which... with Sephiroth's following comment on him, _with death stalking close behind_, that's what bothered her most: especially since it seemed Red had made a similar note of it. Still, she also couldn't help wondering what a man so close to said death could possibly want in a battlefield he clearly wasn't meant for any longer.

_Not unless he has something dear left to lose_, said that one little voice Aerith couldn't quite name.

"...Did you sense anything else in particular about him?" she said another ponderous moment later, after heavily weighing this little bit of knowledge.

"Looking for something specific?" Red carefully asked.

"I dunno," Aerith sighed again, removing her hand from the creature's head and ears. Her own head slumped, the young woman suddenly drawing her knees to her torso. She settled for telling Red the truth next, "See, yesterday, just before we left the Costa Del Sol, Yuffie and I had a run-in with him-"

"Did he hurt you?" The creature suddenly pressed, his fur rippling once.

"No no!" she hurriedly waved it off. "See, funny story is, Yuffie actually managed to steal _from_ him," she smiled next. "He got his materia back, but he got winded doing it. I had to help heal him."

"Heal him-?" He questioned.

_Oh crud, _Aerith suddenly realized her verbalized error with a jolt, her expression waxing to anxious as she gauged Red's own reaction to the portent. However, he merely seemed to nod as he processed this information; as if it confirmed a suspicion he might've had.

"Ah," he eventually said. "I figured as much. Did he say anything in particular? Or do anything suspicious?"

The Ancient shook her head, blinking quizzically at him. _Did he know already?_

"...He only thanked me for helping him," she said uncertainly. "He let me talk to him for a bit- Well, talk _at _him really... But he never struck me as someone whose dangerous. In fact, when I asked Yuffie, she said he merely let her go after he got his materia back. I don't think he wants trouble."

The quadruped pondered this for a moment, his muzzle creasing slightly.

"The thing is," Aerith continued with. "-I just couldn't help feeling like I want to know who he is, starting with how to help him..."

"Help?"

Aerith's face fell, "I... I don't know. I just can't help thinking that he might be trying to avoid Shinra, or something- Despite him hanging around the Turks." She took in a breath here, "I'm still left sitting here wondering why an injured man is doing all this running around for them, when I know Tseng doesn't typically let his people in that kind of condition do any work. Maybe it sounds silly to you, but a part of me believes he's honestly in danger-"

"Its not silly at all," Red gently interjected. His tail swished, the flame catching the girl's eye. "Its merely like you to want to help someone who you genuinely believe is in trouble. You do it for complete strangers all the time, when we pass them in the streets. You're open-minded, patient-"

He suddenly reached over with his nose and bumped her shoulder. Aerith didn't know what it meant, but she guessed it was affectionate in some way.

"You're a healer, Aerith: Someone who _feels _more than she sees, as I do: However, you see their pain in a way I can't... Even when _they_ are blind to it." Red curled his black lips in a show of a smile, "-And that sense of empathy you have... Its truly a gift. It gives you a means to help when others would simply hurt or shut out the pain. Now does that sound silly to you?"

Aerith kept her eyes on her knees, but couldn't help the timid smile as she weighed the statement.

"As for the shadow man," he began again, lifting his muzzle completely from his crossed forelegs. His nose lifted heaven-ward, his feral eye glistening in the pale wax-work glow of the moon. "You did just confirm what I scented: That he may be healing. He didn't have a good smell sadly. Its like he came out of the hospital not so long ago. Give or take a week- if that. I can't specify because he clearly tried to shower off his ailment."

"'Ailment'?" Aerith echoed, implying he go on. _Red's nose knows, _She inwardly noted._ In a way, he can really see more than the average man or beast._

"No injured or dying man or creature can ever really shake off the scent of their pain, as I'm sure you're aware. Its amazing how man and prey can smell so much alike," he spoke rather plainly there, weirding her out a bit."But whatever the case," He blinked mechanically, measuring his selective but decisive words. "I think I smelled traces of medicine as well- Either he'd taken it recently, or had it on his person somewhere too. Maybe both."

"Oh. It must've been pretty strong stuff."

"Not quite all of it, but yes," Red sniffled, as if he was detecting the vast and mysterious aromas around him at that very second. "-Cloud also told me something rather queer not so long ago," he said as he regarded Aerith with a side-long glance. "Before he went to bed, he told me and Barret that, just as the monster on the boat went to finish me and Yuffie off, the man used his shield materia to help us. I surmised as much later on, but found his next words were what _really _piqued my interest-"

"Hm?"

Red's next expression deepened to something much darker than before, his muzzle crinkling. It put Aerith immediately on her guard.

"The thing I found most puzzling about this strange shadow man," he began seriously. "-Was Cloud's very description of the one singular feature he could make out on him. He kept his head ducked and eyes shadowed the whole time he's been around us, and I believe it may be for this reason." The creature blinked slowly, as if visualizing the stranger in front of him. "He said, the man had _mako eyes_."

"Mako eyes?" Aerith's gut flipped uneasily.

"Hm."

"But, Turks don't ever employ anyone with any mako infusions into their group," she protested, remembering some of the things Zack had told her in years past. "Turks aren't meant for combat; that's why they usually partner up with other divisions."

The quadruped grunted, his noise of contemplation disrupting Aerith's own inspection of what this portent may suggest. "Do you think he's a SOLDIER, then?"

"I... I don't know," Aerith shook her head. "If he were, then why would he be dressed the way he is? I've never seen SOLDIER in anything other than what Cloud wears..."

"Hm. Do you think he's a Turk instead? A recruit, maybe?"

"Not one that I've seen, no," she confirmed. "And Tseng never puts an injured operative in the field; newbie or not. He earnestly cares about his men."

The quadruped nodded, rumbling thoughtfully as he weighed this information. After a minute, he continued with, "Now this is merely conjecture, and probably off-topic, but I can't help recalling that Shinra, despite its rather questionable morality, will lay off or temporarily put their workers on leave should something seem wrong with them. Turks, SOLDIER, Security detail, etc... None of them are exempt in this rule. However," Red snorted, keeping his mellow voice slow and measured. "Would they ever use mako in procedure to save a life...? Like, besides SOLDIER. Did you ever see anyone outside of that division whose ever been exposed to mako in an effort to heal them?"

"No. Not at all," the girl confirmed with absolute surety.

"Huh. Then I suppose that leaves us with two theories," the canine reasoned. "One; that man is, or used to be SOLDIER. However, he seems truly unable to adequately supply his service to Shinra if he's in such a state, SOLDIER or not. He should be lying in a hospital somewhere, if he hasn't been discharged for this injury he has."

"Right," Aerith nodded.

"So then that leaves us with number two," he continued. "He could be a legitimate Turk whose on his death-bed, and Tseng figured using the mako procedure could save his life. And when you consider the girl he's with," he continued. "He has her scent on him. She might be trying to help take care of him. He must truly be in a bad way if he's got some sort of keeper despite evidence of a mako procedure. Shouldn't he have been healed if that had been the case?"

Aerith hummed her agreement, remembering Zack the times he returned from some of the more exhaustive assignments. Cloud was like this too; pretty much healing off most of his infirmities without much aid from herself.

_But not this guy. The procedure isn't properly working or something, probably. So maybe he's a Turk whose new to it-?_

_...No. That still doesn't explain why Tseng has him on the field. And if this man truly does have THE mako eyes, then he would've had to been exposed to the process repeatedly throughout time. Right?_

_Dang it. What the heck is he?_

Red then proceeded with, "It certainly makes you wonder: What would such a weakened man, who clearly doesn't want to be seen, be doing on essentially a whole boat-load of Rufus' guards? Not to mention us." He shook his furry head again. "He's also armed to the teeth with a vast arsenal of offensive and defensive weapons never before seen, and I can only suspect is experimental. And his only ally seems to be the Turks... Pretty suicidal if you ask me."

_No kidding._

The creature's proud brow lifted, and suddenly Red was drawing himself up into a sitting position.

"What?" Aerith found herself drawn from her own seat, her legs stretching back out in front of her.

"The top Shinra brass clearly don't know he's there," Red stated, his alien expression vivid. "The Turk girl knew about him, didn't report him, but was clearly protecting him. This could mean-" The quadruped turned towards the Ancient, his remaining eye a roiling hearth that could very well draw in any prey. "She _could _be acting as a rogue," he went on to say, much to Aerith's shock. "But this isn't likely, seeing how Turks behave when it comes to their fellows. There's no Turk deserters. This said, she may be very well protecting that man under orders of someone from _within _their very own circle! The Turks may be possibly hiding that man from Rufus!"

"You think the Turks are acting outside of Shinra by protecting this man?" Aerith was on her feet now, finding this portent _very _fascinating indeed.

"Perhaps," The creature nodded.

"That's... that's a pretty strong assumption, you know. And, you don't even know that _for sure_..." The woman couldn't help her own doubt, despite the offered reasoning.

Red was on his feet now, his tail-tip twitching anxiously. "Maybe, maybe not," he said cryptically. "But one could only assume after such particular behaviors, that this may very well be the case. Tell me something then, Aerith-" He sat up on the bench as much as he could, meeting Aerith's eyes levelly with his single one. "You have more experience dealing with the Turks then the rest of us combined. What do you make of this unusual observation?"

The girl's expression seemed to finish concreting Red's own feelings on the matter, and the longer the two sat there, the more sure they grew. Granted, its a _wild, _even vague assumption based upon the scant nuance of Cissnei and the stranger's carefully controlled reactions.

But Aerith knew; she knew the more she considered Tseng's character and the others she's met with over the years. She knew that, it could very well be possible that the leashed Turks may not always wag their tails for their owners.

_But still, it didn't answer who or what that man really is, _she thought. _We could only guess._

"Red," she found herself frowning then. "There's one more thing."

"Hm?"

Aerith seated herself back onto the ground beside the bench, carefully measuring her thoughts from earlier. "When I was in my room, I was uh... I was thinking that, maybe... Its something no one would ever get, but-"

She hesitated, wondering if even this little bit may actually sound foolish. But she had to ask; she needed a sensible friend's insight at this point.

"...Do you think that, maybe, we could talk to the shadow man?" she eventually asked.

"Why would you want to-" He suddenly paused, contemplated it, and then said, "Oh. You truly don't think him an enemy then, huh?"

"Maybe," She shrugged helplessly, still feeling very foolish for the suggestion. "I just... I got the same pull from him as I did with Cloud and Za- Eh, someone else. I really thought that maybe, if he's so willing to listen, maybe we could find out what the Turks may be up to..."

"-As well as learning who this mystery man is," Red smirked, if a tad crookedly.

Aerith didn't deny it, ducking her head and throwing her hands behind her back.

The creature considered the possibility, lifting a foreleg to scratch at his cheek in a weirdly human gesture of contemplation. It was fascinating to watch; although the girl wouldn't exactly say it aloud.

"Perhaps," he said. "But its quite possibly one of the most stupidly dangerous things we could've ever done. We still don't know how strong this guy is, despite his apparent injuries. His spell-casting suggested mastery over his mental state, and over-all adequate sense of spirituality. He might be very well-centered in his sense of self."

_I didn't consider that_, Aerith thought with a wince.

"...Well, its technically no more dangerous than usual for us," Aerith sighed, although with some obscurely dark humor thrown in there too. "And I wouldn't exactly want to do this alone-"

"Hm. I suppose that's true." He turned and looked up at the moon again, as if it was giving him all the answers he ever needed. "And if you truly feel that he isn't as dangerous as he seems at first glance, then I'd like to defer to your judgement on that."

Aerith smiled, "Thank you. For not shooting it down, I mean."

"Of course," he bobbed his head in a respectful manner. After a brief pause, his expression gently curved into a curious mask. "Aerith," he began slowly. "May I ask you something?"

The girl giggled lightly there, "You just did, but okay."

The creature harrumphed good-naturedly. "Well, as it were, I believe you tried to say something and censored yourself after I asked if the shadow man seemed like an enemy. What were you going to say? I don't want to step on any toes here-"

Aerith's smile died a little, but she somehow figured the cat-creature wouldn't simply let that little slip slide on by. She could only huff and stare down at her feet, wondering how to best reply.

She hadn't really spoke Zack's name aloud ever since she started sending those letters to him. Technically, even her own mother doesn't mention him; mostly out of respect for Aerith's feelings on the matter. Saying it out loud now though, after all this time, it would feel more than just a _little _strange. And quite possibly resurrect some of her long-since buried feelings on the side.

However, Red had been nothing but a supportive and logical friend; the kind of friend every person pretty much needed in their life. The least Aerith could do is say, right?

Just as she opened her mouth, the four-legged companion let out an exasperated breath. His paw lifted, somehow comfortably making it to his head and dragging along the side as any person could when they're particularly fatigued.

"My apologies," he humbly dipped his head next. "If its something so personal, then of course I won't force you to say. I actually feel foolish for asking, since it seems to make you so uncomfortable-"

Aerith's lips quirked gently, and then she found herself crouched beside the creature and resting a hand on his rather huge shoulder. "Its okay," she assured him. "I don't mind telling you, but its just been so long..."

"Its alright," he said. "If there's an apt reason for it-"

"No no. I'm just being silly," she giggled; although her heart wasn't into it.

Red merely blinked at this, curiosity frothing behind his usually veiled eye.

Aerith looked around, as if expecting someone to be listening in. When she saw nothing of course, she turned back to Red and whispered, as if its the deepest secret ever uttered, "His name's Zack. Just don't tell Cloud though; he'll get jealous." She coyly added a wink in for good measure too, as if telling a clever joke.

The canine smiled subtly at her then, cocking his head towards her incrementally. "Of course," he murmured back. "I won't breath a word. And, I won't ask about your relationship either. You're free to tell of course, but its up to you."

The Ancient hummed contentedly at him and drew herself up, "Thank you. I just wanna know though... Do you mind if we should keep the rest of this information to ourselves for now too? I mean, I don't want to go blabbering out that man's condition-"

Red already seemed to understand what the girl had been getting at; merely nodding to her request thoughtfully. "I won't say more if you don't want me too. Other than that, it _is _all hinged on a wild guesswork after all..."

"I wouldn't exactly call it wild," she shrugged. "I'd think it on the fairly educated side."

The creature had his turn to return the shrug.

Aerith moved a hand to her breast, almost right over her heart. "I wouldn't mind telling the others that other stuff," she lowly added. "-But that means explaining the details of that man's injuries... and I _really_ don't feel comfortable doing that at the moment-"

The other held up a paw as if to stop her, his expression mild. "You don't need to explain anymore, Aerith. I understand. Did I not just say that, this is all hinged on what little we managed to glean anyway? Its strictly theoretical." He shook his head, "There's simply no point in discussing what could essentially be wild speculation and potentially breed conspiracy where there isn't none. If you or I feel that it becomes relevant though, or if we find out more, we'll have to tell them then. Is that alright with you?"

Aerith ducked her head and nodded.

Red smiled again, "Good. Now, you should be getting some sleep. I think I'm just gonna camp out here."

"You sure?" Aerith flicked her head towards the bench, "You're just going to sleep here?"

The creature, as if to answer her query, slid easily into the seat; stretching out his wiry form to its fullest. He yawned and wrapped his fore-paws in front of him; resting his box-shaped head upon them. "This'll do," he told her sleepily. "I'll be fine right here."

"Oh. Okay then," she nodded. "Goodnight I guess."

"Goodnight to you too," he replied without opening his eye.

Aerith thought he'd add something else to those words, but saw nothing forthcoming and turned to leave. Red never did mince words, so its to be expected. So, she went quietly through the door and headed back towards her shared room instead, still heavily contemplating the things said between them.

The Ancient found her bed occupied when she returned; Yuffie sprawled across it in a spread-eagle position. Sadly, there's only two beds in this room, so Aerith knew she'd eventually have to share with either her or Tifa. Tifa however was curled onto one side of her mattress, looking for all intents and purposes as small as she can possibly make herself. Aerith wondered if something had been bothering her recently, and resolved to ask her the next time they were alone.

Whatever the case, she merely shelved it off for the moment and curled in with the martial artist instead; leaving Yuffie undisturbed adjacent to them. Sleep came a little more easily, although it's still a gradual process. Nonetheless, Aerith managed to nod off before too long, uttering a demure goodnight to both her friends, the Turks, and the nameless somebody she hoped to speak to soon.

_And goodnight to you too, Zack, wherever you are, _she inwardly prayed; sincerely hoping that he may be resting easily out there some where, and not lying six feet under instead.

* * *

~777~

Tseng kept his hands neatly folded behind his back, his stone gaze every bit as hard as granite.

Long-distance escort duty wasn't something he imagined himself doing again; especially so soon after his promotion to 'Director' within that very same year- The glorified title however translated into being Rufus' loyal, personal hand and body-guard should something go awry. A lot of the time, Tseng was preoccupied with running the scant few official Turks while keeping in close contact with the president.

In this case, Tseng simply wasn't a field operative anymore; he didn't have the time for it. However, due to the massive man-power shortage in Shinra, let alone the Turks in general; even _he _would somehow get landed a assignment that'd eventually take him out of Midgar and away from Rufus- which was a rare event in itself. But to be a bodyguard hand-chosen by one of the other prime execs themselves as a personal loan from Rufus- Well, maybe he should consider it an honor-

That is, if the person who picked him hadn't been the one and only _Scarlet herself._

_So, what's Rufus even thinking, _Tseng couldn't help but wonder.

This vindictive, red-robed, extinct animal pelt-wearing _she-devil _(Tseng doesn't use the words himself; its something he's heard from Reno) was every bit as righteously furious as a storm of Valkyries if she ever felt so inclined. The woman had the mind of a truly genius, blood-hungry psychopath- Her ability to make a doomsday weapon from a pile of discarded plastic, scrap metal and decent gunpowder was what probably got her here in the first place- Other than her inherent ruthlessness and general effectiveness on the side.

Still, even though one doesn't simply _refuse _security detail to an _EXEC _of all things (and especially, _namely _Scarlet), various other circumstances were what brought Tseng across the sea so soon after he sent in Zack. Truly, what does bring the Director here coincided with his _other _mission as well- One could even say that Tseng had this small, obscured To-Do list to adhere to while he was on this continent. If he could just get away from Scarlet long enough, maybe he'd be able to slash off another detail.

_Now. How to do this without Rufus and Scarlet knowing-?_

At the moment, Tseng stood in a make-shift 'office' of sorts- a large room in a Shinra-owned Hotel here North of Corel. This place wasn't accessible to the public- only if you flash a fancy, Shinra-grade identification card could you get in. On the side, it sat in a naturally protected region of land north of the Collared River- an unusual land feature that separated the lush greenery of the plains below and the mined-out wastes above.

As for his current company, Tseng was surrounded by the biggest suits around- Including Scarlet, President Rufus, Heidegger, Palmer, and Reeve with a new Cait Sith mech sitting right beside him, waving its arms side to side. As Director of the Turks though, Tseng himself was formally invited to this important meeting due to his role to properly coordinate his fellows whereas Heidegger would fail.

_An honor, if nothing else. _

No one ever says it aloud, but Heidegger simply wasn't an adequate leader. He may be a fairly-adept military commander when it comes to his own respective Division, but as a technical figure-head of the Administrative department of Research...

Well, that was _all _he was- a symbol, nothing truly substantial to the Turks. Tseng may not technically have the power as an exec in this sense, but that didn't mean the Turks didn't listen to him. They obeyed Tseng and their more experienced 'elders' like Reno; Heidegger was barely an after-thought. Literally, the Turks (inside and out) nowadays only took their orders from either Tseng or the president. Heidegger simply didn't understand the intricacies of their closed-doors work, and was thus ignored a lot of the time.

On a side note, Rufus would've already fired the large man if it wasn't for the slew of problems the company's developed as of lately: Like the apparent and recent resignation of the Head of Science department, Noburu Hojo. But that wasn't what they were here for- They weren't here to discuss replacing Hojo; or finding a better way to get more Shinra hands on deck; or even to discuss the reasons for inexplicably shutting down the Space Program (not that Palmer knows it yet, but Tseng had managed to glean this portent from Rufus' apathetic demeanor towards the branch).

These bigwigs were all here to discuss this one, haunting thought that shackled them down like ten tons of pure, King Behemoth weight- and this one, shared idea that this _one_, rogue man could very well lead them to either the Promised Land, or perpetual ruin.

Sephiroth, as it were.

At the moment, Rufus, Scarlet, and the others were turning over Tseng's recently filed reports; all turned in by his eyes and ears in the Septimus Sect- an unknown, off-shoot branch of the Turks nowadays. These big-shot execs never knew what they're seeing is the fruits of Tseng's carefully crafted machinations; and he doubted they'd even care about his independent thinking if it was getting the Turks _this close _to their prime targets.

Okay, maybe they would care, but he doubted they'd shut down the Turks for it- Not when their over-all effectiveness has gone up a whole 5.5 percent this month alone, despite their official numbers only being literally a scant handful. The Turks outside of Rude, Reno, Elena, Tseng, and Cissnei were all individuals who were presumed dead or otherwise after the _crisis _a few months ago. Scarlet and the others, Rufus included, didn't know there was more than just the five aforementioned ones.

_Rufus will certainly see to our continued service, _Tseng coolly confided in as he watched the big-wigs before him. _The president still sees our use as the biggest and most contributive research division; and especially since its a personal benefit to himself. Even the Science department is the least effective sect right now without Hojo to run it._

At the very least, Tseng dearly _hoped _that Rufus will continue to shield the Turks as he had several months ago; when it looked liked their whole department was about to be terminated. Its rumored that Scarlet still felt as she did then; upset that the highly suspicious and most low-profile branch of their company should be promptly liquidated. Granted, this was only a rumor; but it still compelled Tseng to feel suspicious of Scarlet's rather particular tastes in escorts.

"Is this all?" Rufus inquired without lifting his eyes from the papers before him.

"Yes sir," Tseng squared his shoulders, keeping his expression blank.

"Hm."

Scarlet's lip curled at one end, while she lifted it just enough to bare some teeth on the other. Its a strange tic, but it betrayed her evident and building irritation. "What is this?" She almost snarled. "How can we confide in these things being accurate? Its saying that Sephiroth is showing up in multiple places all at once!"

Tseng said nothing, not even passing the woman the cutesy of a shrug.

Rufus however, he seemed to sponge in the information; his glacial eyes thoroughly exploring the notes in excruciating detail. He eventually looked up at Tseng and gave the Turk a once-over that felt more like an X-ray than anything. Tseng of course kept his posture unflinchingly, meeting the man's eyes with the same amount of cool indifference.

Rufus eventually relented and scoffed, and then, "Its legitimate, Scarlet. You and I both know the Turks don't send in faulty information."

The woman sniffed at it, but said nothing.

The president suddenly let out a slow breath, his hand going through his hair once. Tseng had long since learned that this was tic born out of sheer exhaustion; and its something he's known since Rufus was a child.

"It seems the Sephiroth that was on the ship might've been a fake, or a clone of sorts," he breathed, passing every single individual in this room a hard stare. "This said, I can't help wondering if Hojo's resignation has anything to do with this odd string of appearances; which all seemed to happen at the same time." He looked back at Tseng, as if expecting more of the answers from him. "I don't suppose you have any leads on the man, do you?"

"There's one," Tseng immediately replied. "But, is it not in the report, sir?"

"Its here," Rufus lifted it and flashed it at the others. "But I'd much prefer to hear it from your own mouth, if you don't mind. Summarize it, if you will."

Tseng dipped his head respectfully, feeling the eyes of every man and woman here. "Of course," he replied easily.

He looked every individual in the eye as he robotically recited, "Suspect Noburu Hojo was last seen at the Costa Del Sol, at approximately 1500 hours near the beach the day before yesterday. He was seen speaking with some of civilians; three to be exact. A single resident man on one account, and a couple; male and female tourists not ten minutes there-after. Both conversations lasted two minutes each; however no content was heard. Hojo's conversations were conducted in public areas where noise was at its loudest.

"-After which, Hojo abruptly headed off towards the edge of town in an apparent hurry. Operative Elena-" _Judet_ _actually, _he mentally corrected. "-Proceeded to follow, and witnessed Hojo leaving the Della Soul Inn on Lantan street at exactly fifteen thirty-three hours with a single black toat in hand; artificial leather, presumed to have been his work bag."

Tseng took in another breath, and then, "Said suspect arrived at Manson Avenue another nineteen minutes later, where he waved down a taxi at sixteen hundred hours. Operative Elena continued to follow in a rented vehicle for approximately twenty-five minutes; south-bound on highway 425. At sixteen twenty-six hours, Hojo disembarks on an empty stretch of road; surrounded almost entirely by woods. This property has no name."

Not too far from him, he did see Reeve's eyes slant.

"-Elena continued to follow Hojo about a mile until the target took an obscured path down a dirt road that curled and twisted off. It lead into a dangerous series of animal paths surrounded by ravines in a monster rich area. However, there's no such sightings, and Hojo proceeded unerringly for another thirty minutes."

Even Tseng couldn't help his own blink in confusion, and he certainly wasn't alone as he noted the strange looks on every individual in the room as he added, "Eventually, the dirt paths lead into the outskirts of the ruins of Banora; which is almost entirely surrounded on all sides by various natural forms of protection such as steep falls and a thick tree line. Operative Elena lost sight of the target from therein."

When he fell silent, hands folded neatly behind his back, that's when the suits all broke their stares and exchanged glances with each other.

Rufus smirked, "Hmf. Then I suppose there really isn't much more to add."

Scarlet snorted in an rather unladylike fashion. "Shifty business," she said as reclined in her seat, her nails tapping rhythmically on the metal table. "What's he want in a dump like _Banora _anyway?"

"It used to be a major point-of-interest for many factions," Reeve answered in his distant but polite manner. "However, Shinra Op code Zero-Zero Dark was used to level the land when an enemy turned the town into an obscured base of operations. I believe the site had top-of-the-line, stolen Shinra-grade equipment that was being used for cloning and weapon development."

"Oh _yeah. _I think I remember that now," Scarlet's cold, calculated stare was almost draconic; frigid and unfeeling as it were. Her next smile mirthlessly creased into existence; as if in fond memory of the violence of that time. "SOLDIER deserters causing some sort of upstart in the old warehouses out there. Ha. Kinda funny, seeing how they're making due in a bunch of dumb-apple processing plants."

Heidegger bellowed his great laughter at that. Rufus shot the man a look that quickly quelled it.

Reeve however continued with, "Whatever the case, the only reason I could possibly see Hojo wanting to go out there would be to find some of the equipment in question. Although, I can't see it being functional after so many years."

Rufus passed the Director of Urban Development a curious stare, his eyes suddenly flashing over the Cait Sith model sitting idly by him. The robot feline was lowly humming a song, but its ears pivoted and swiveled to every individual in the room anytime someone spoke up. Its tail gave lazy twitches on occasion. Tseng wouldn't doubt that the thing was recording the conversation.

"Reeve," Rufus drawled. "Give me your best personal opinion: Are you absolutely _sure _that the old tech in Banora wouldn't somehow be salvageable?"

The formally addressed man blinked once, and then faced his latest Cait model. "The late president had me send a S.I.T.H out there enough times in the past. I've never found anything that was even remotely in a single piece; let alone two. Everything that could've been used was defunct. If there _was _anything out there, it might've been underground." He frowned then, "Although, the cave systems in Banora are more than just a little unstable. Sink-holes and cave-ins are quite common in a lot of these areas. I've lost a Cait model on one occasion as an example."

"Hm." The president seemed to consider something here, but the reverie only lasted for a fraction of a second before he said, "Have another Cait sent back out there anyway; I want it on site as often as you can. Might as well see if we can catch Hojo in the process."

"Yes sir."

"Now then," Rufus returned his attention to the papers in front of him. "Back to Sephiroth," he primly noted. "With all of these sightings of him in numerous places in the world, one would be led to believe that these are in fact _fakes_. For all we know, they could be clones. Do we have any means of knowing or learning which is the genuine article? Anyone?"

He said these words, but his eyes once again darted to Tseng. Tseng knew this question would eventually come up though, and had an answer ready for such an occasion.

"Not as of yet," Tseng told him. "However, we're in the process of studying the nature of these Sephiroth look-a-likes. I've sent Cissnei to Nibelheim to do some digging while I have Rude following AVALANCHE's trail. Reno is finished healing, and is headed towards any other of Hojo's old haunts as we speak."

"Good," Rufus nodded. "I'd expect to see results soon."

"Of course sir."

The president's expression suddenly seemed to linger longer more than necessary, but it lead Tseng to believe that the man was simply contemplating the information offered to him thus far. In short, he was merely using that very corner of the room Tseng was standing in as a staring post.

He then said, his cracked ice shards for eyes jagged, "I've come to a new decision as well, and would like to discuss its benefits to everyone at present." His chair squeaked minimally as he reclined in it a tad. "I'd like to expand the Turks again; as it were. Not by much; but enough to gather Intel faster."

Scarlet was on her feet in an instant; Cait Sith jolted up and almost fell into Reeve at her jerk.

"Absolutely not," she spat. "You saw what the Turks did when there'd been more of them! They acted independently of Shinra and defected; turning into our enemies in the name of their last failed Director!"

Tseng didn't react to this, but he couldn't help his microscopic twitch in the brow. _Funny, coming out of the woman who specifically requested my name and not Reno's when she's been assigned an escort for her own personal gain_, the man inwardly noted.

Rufus seemed to have expected Scarlet's outburst however, and merely tented his hands in mild indifference. He shrugged too, "Yes, but I've also secured Tseng's loyalty here. And so long as he answers to me, the few Turks that remain shall follow. And I did say 'few'-"

"You don't know that for _sure_!" She snarled.

Rufus kept on speaking; his glacial tone demanding absolute silence from all who stood present. "Stop and consider this, Scarlet: We would've had more information on Sephiroth and Hojo by now if there'd been even a handful _more _of the Turks. They've always been effectively doing their jobs for the company for the past thirty years; without fail. The one time the truce was broken happened because their long-standing leader; who was the best at what he did and steadily gained the love and adoration of his underlings one-by-one through trial by fire, became a radical."

His next smile was like oil on greased glass, "However, need I remind you that it was _Tseng _here who put an end to the man because he sees the bigger picture: He didn't let his loyalty to this old man stop him from doing his job. He even managed to save the remaining Turks in Shinra from termination with this act."

"How?" Scarlet huffed, folding her arms across her ample breast. "All I hear is that this so-called loyal dog here killed his 'beloved' superior for his bone."

Rufus actually laughed out-right at that; his shoulders bobbing as he chuckled at the statement. "I suppose it does seem that way, doesn't it," he said while shaking his head. "But the thing is, Tseng here actually cares for the safety of the _many _Turks he was raised around- not for just the one. He didn't wish to see the others getting the firing squad because of the conflicting interests of his former leader. So, he killed the one true threat to his fellows; and hasn't committed to a single assignment or task without me and Heidegger's permission ever since then. Which reminds me-"

His rhadamanthine gaze landed on the Head of Public Safety next, "I see no point for a middle-man whose specialty is the affairs of our private army to coordinate the Turks, so I'd like to ask Heidegger here to relinquish his command of the Research and General Affairs department."

"Wha-_what_?"

"You heard me," Rufus mildly stated. "I'd like to take direct command of the Turks from henceforth, and support their over-all growth in the time to come. Sephiroth's pursuit, whether real or otherwise, takes precedence. Do you not agree?"

Heidegger tried to save face; emphasis on _tried_. He was left bumbling over his words a near half a minute before he managed to recover his thoughts. "I-I understand... B-but-" He stuttered.

"Think of it this way," Rufus' expression slipped into a neutral mask; and its an insidious something that put Tseng immediately on his guard. "I should actually say, I'd like to propose a trade in command, as it were: Your Turks, for whatever remains of SOLDIER."

"W-wha- huh?" Heidegger blinked.

All across the table, eyes flashed and expressions creased. Even Tseng's stoic mask slipped at this.

"What're you getting at?" Reeve inquired.

"I've been giving this some thought for quite some time," Rufus said with what seemed to be heavy resignation; but Tseng knew better. "The SOLDIER program hasn't been prospering without a clear chain of command for a _long _time. The last commander it had proved to be more _defector_ than director-" His eyes crisply narrowed into predatory slits in condemnation of this memory. "-And when my father decided to turn SOLDIER into his own personal army that answered to no one else in the upper branches, he shifted all of this errant military power to himself. He technically didn't need the Shinra army anymore, nor any of _you _if he ever felt so inclined."

Scarlet, Palmer, Heidegger, and Reeve exchanged glances, as if in remembrance of the power move.

"This said," Rufus continued. "SOLDIER's over-all effectiveness declined. When it was placed in the command of man who clearly thought money was the answer to everything, and had no general idea on how to properly manage said major military division, it recessed into a stagnated pool of less than few dozen individuals with no true coordinated strength. However, in the hands of an experienced tactical commander like _Heidegger _here, I believe it would do much better. It may or may not become what it once was, but it'll certainly be better off."

Said man could only flap his gums at this point, completely at a loss for words.

"Wait wait wait," Palmer, whose been silent this whole conversation finally piped up. "You're suggesting we meld the lesser Troopers with _SOLDIER _of all things! Right?"

A smile was his reply there.

Scarlet harrumphed. "Why the heck would you want to trade SOLDIER for a scant handful of Turks then? I'm still not seeing the big picture here."

_Nor do I, _Tseng frowned.

"I'm merely someone who values brain over brawn," Rufus casually replied with a rather measured jerk of the shoulders. "Other than the fact that the Turks only remain because of me, I'd figure it did seem rather excessive for the president of all things to have complete command of such a prospective division like SOLDIER. Besides, I wouldn't know how to keep a firm hand on the lot of them; I haven't the experience in mobilizing any forces."

He flicked his head towards Heidegger, "Heidegger knows war, I know intelligence. I distinctly recall being a mole at one point for Shinra some years back as an example, after all. Personally, I only thought both branches would be better off if they switched. Do any of you disagree?"

The other suits muttered to each other briefly but conceded with a nod. Reeve however was the exception, his old eyes staying perfectly even with Rufus' younger pair. He didn't say anything, nor move in any way; unable to contradict the president's sound logic.

In theory, it made _perfect _sense, even to Tseng. In a way, the Turks were truly getting the best out of this deal. However, he knew the real reason as to _why _Rufus wanted to give up SOLDIER:

He planned on ending the SOLDIER program for good- and it would be a slow death for the division. Heidegger wasn't a great leader to begin with; his faults essentially lie in his temper and over-zealous pursuit of a singular goal blind-sighting him to any other peaceful methods. Giving him control over of a bunch of equally temper-mental troops looking to fill Sephiroth's immense shoes was bound to sow chaos somewhere along the line.

Granted, he _was _indeed better at waging war and causing a ruckus than manipulating the strings behind the Turks. For a while, SOLDIER would seem to improve. However, there's bad blood between the Security Sect and SOLDIER; the two simply didn't cohesively mix, even in joint or training missions. Heidegger would certainly have his work cut out for him in trying to keep the peace. Once the inevitable battles broke out, the brutally slimmed-down, under-staffed army would struggle against the agitated SOLDIERs in question.

And even if this didn't happen, SOLDIER's casual integration into the Army would mean publicly down-playing its image to the public- and even less people would want to join it. The few SOLDIER that remain would have hardly any chance for the infamous prestige they're known for, and stop getting the funds they need for their expensive medical coverage. With no funding, SOLDIER would only end up becoming slightly stronger variations of the Security Department's Captains.

Worse yet, you have to take into account the aid the R&D division once gave to them- Hojo's job as head meant he had to jointly help maintain SOLDIER and its operatives. Sephiroth was the reason it existed in the first place- and ever since his rampage in Nibelheim, SOLDIER essentially all but withered away. And with Hojo gone and the R&D department in steady decline, SOLDIER has lost its source of strength. The controlled mako treatments were what really gave them their power in the beginning.

So in a nutshell: angry Army, lack of image, and no decent staff manning the Science branch means SOLDIER will essentially finish dying off. How quaint.

_Is no one here considering the repercussions of this? _Tseng wondered as he searched the faces of every exec in the building.

He did see Reeve's face twist briefly, and suddenly wondered what the man finally felt about the move. He seemed conflicted, if Tseng had to guess. "If I may ask," The head of Urban Development suddenly spoke up, his eyes guarded. "What of the Scientific branch? Without Hojo, won't SOLDIER continue to suffer without the mako treatments he usually administered?"

"Not at all," Rufus casually replied. "We'll simply hire the second most experienced technician in the department. And unless we found someone as intelligent as Hojo, he can keep the job."

Reeve's expression narrowed minimally. "And, what of Hojo? What happens to him once he's apprehended?"

"That all depends on him," Rufus smiled, his cold eyes the perfect epitome of _absolute zero_. "That man has lent Shinra many years of service, don't get me wrong- but I'm afraid his shady behavior and generally over-looked relations with our enemies in the past should actually be brought into light. My father never did do anything to stop the man every time a new crisis emerges and he's somehow entangled in it."

There's no denying that; Hojo's sense of humanity couldn't have been more non-existent. And whenever he did cause some sort of problem, he was _never _punished for it; merely detained and eventually allowed to resume his work for a time. It was a rinse and repeat process- and it couldn't have been more morally unethical or practical.

Scarlet cackled then, throwing back her richly blond head and letting loose one of her signature chortles that had many men laughing behind her back. "You know what? I think I can go with that," she leered, her merriment subsiding. "I support the motion; go for it."

"As I," Heidegger puffed out his immense barrel chest.

"I," Palmer raised a stiff hand here, his gray mustache trembling in unnoticed nuance.

Rufus expectantly turned towards Reeve, his frigid stare completely unchanged. As for the latter in question, Reeve noticed that, once again, he was being out-voted and subtly pushed towards making the same decision as everyone else. He always was called the corporate punching bag for a reason.

Reeve smacked his apparently dry lips, his recently untrimmed brows hanging heavy upon his sleepless gaze. He however conceded, as expected, when he did eventually raise a hand and muttered an unenthusiastic "I". Cait Sith bobbed a scrawny arm next to him, mirroring his creator's every move.

How can he argue with Rufus at this point? especially since the president has readily supplied his reasoning for the proposals. There was almost absolutely _nothing _he can use as ammunition to protest against.

And then Rufus turned towards Tseng.

"You?" he inquired.

"Hm?"

"You actually do have a say you know," the president clarified for him. "As of today, I'm _officially_ instating you as _**Head**_ of the Research and General Affairs Department, as you're meant to be. No middle man, no director, just you and your new title as Head. You don't answer to anyone here but me, and even then you're well within your rights to offer advice or veto whatever I say. You now carry the same title, rank, and command as any Executive in the Shinra Corporation; as any person in this room. What say you, Tseng?"

_I- What?_

Tseng was, to say the very least, completely _floored_ by this maneuver. He actually thought that when Rufus said he was going to work with the Turks in question, he automatically presumed he'd continue to serve as Director- continuing as an underling to Rufus as he did for Heidegger. However, to put Tseng on the same ranks as every individual here at present- Even though he knew he still technically didn't have much more to say than Reeve had, its still unexpected.

For once in his life-long service to Shinra, his perpetually unbroken mask of atypical stoicism was shattered; his emotions laid bare for all of these men (and woman) to see for the briefest of seconds. He blinked a few startled times, glancing at every person at the table in mild confusion.

"I... I don't know what to say," he truthfully admitted.

"Oh, but you do know," Rufus smiled, looking for all intents and purposes good-humored. It couldn't have been farther far from the truth, or closer in a way. His mood seemed lifted, and his glassy, unfeeling stare flashed like glistening crystal.

_Waiting for my willing submission. You truly are a clever man, Rufus Shinra. Well played._

He was effectively getting yet another leash to lasso Tseng with; and tying the man down to him in ways Tseng could never hope to break. If he agreed to this, the Turks would _definitely_, without a doubt prosper as Tseng would've hoped; but he'd have yet another reason to never contradict or fight against Rufus, should something happen. He'd _have _to retain his loyalty to Rufus; especially since the lives of his fellows would count into the equation should someone put a toe out of line.

Scarlet sniffed contemptuously, as if to hurry it up. The eternally sweaty Palmer seemed to increase perspiration output; while Heidegger's course boar brows sloped dangerously. Rufus was waiting expectantly, like a feline with a particularly fat morsel caught within his talons.

And Reeve couldn't have looked more apprehensive in his entire life.

Tseng noticed the latter, but knew he couldn't hope to fight his corporate tempest all by himself, as he was. He unfortunately, proud as he was, bent his head and raised an arm. "I," he said, feeling more like a condemned man walking towards his noose.

Rufus smiled almost _warmly_, but all Tseng could feel was the tightening of the course, proverbial rope around his neck.

* * *

~777~

When the lot of them left the room moments later, Scarlet turned towards Tseng and almost politely (for her standards) inquired if Tseng was still going to continue his escort with her. He said yes; knowing that he needed to meet with Sir- A.K.A Septimus at their pre-determined destination anyways. Once she glided off to find the ladies room, Tseng continued to stand idly, dazed by the whirling change in rank and exhausted by his slow day through Executive Hell.

He eventually got his nerves back, and his mask slipped back into place. _Okay_, he told himself, _back to work._ He turned and wandered around the Shinra lobby, his eyes darting around the room for any sign of one of the 'unofficial' Turks- namely, Balto, who should be dressed as one of Heidegger's Army grunt. Once he found the man, he could send along word of what happened here today to Sir long before he could physically meet with him.

_He'll need to know right away._

"Tseng!"

The man turned, noting the swift approach of Reeve Tuesti.

_Ah. My job just got a little easier, thank Minerva._

When the near-forty year old man paused just shy of Tseng, he smiled as brightly as he could; trying to appear as friendly as possible. Cait Sith was of course, right by his side; his long black tail swishing merrily every which way with each clumsy step.

"I must say, congratulations on the new title," Reeve began formally. "I didn't think we'd get a new _Head_ of General Affairs of all things today. I figured the meeting would more or less focus on the R&D Department-"

"As I did," Tseng acknowledged, his shoulders squared and hands looping lazily behind his back. "Rufus was certainly prepared today."

The other nodded, his expression suddenly darkening. "That he was. So, as I recall," the man's older eyes flitted across the Hotel lobby, his back straightening. he lowered his voice next, "You said you wanted to talk?"

Tseng silently gestured, motioning towards the lounge area in the gargantuan room.

The two began to walk over, looking as casual as they could, Reeve going on about Tseng's new rank in a jovial manner that fooled any eyes and ears around them. Reeve was always an honest, straight-forward exec who actually had a 'modest' sense of vanity here and there- but as Rufus loved his power, Scarlet her weapons and Tseng his comrades; Reeve's vice was _expensive _clothes. Like, too-rich-for-your-blood expensive. It certainly made him different from the others in a way, as he seemed to have a more materialistic love than the other Heads. On the side, it helped that his personality made their stroll to the lounge room look like a simple and innocent excursion too, more formality than anything.

However, when the two were actually in the room, they were greeted by the sight of Piggy-Palmer (another nick-name Reno made up), who had a cup of tea brewing on the counter-top. The man gave a grunt of acknowledgment to the pair, but said nothing else.

Tseng seated himself in the leather arm chair on the other side of the room, Reeve continuously filling the air with ambient commentary on when he last visited his mother. He tittered on and on, eventually going into detail about the Cait models he was constantly trying to improve upon. Palmer snorted once or twice in boredom of the talk, and eventually left the room with a piping hot cup of tea and lard in hand- As expected.

Tseng leaned forward and took the Cait in hand, resting the mechanized feline on the seat next to him. He casually asked to see the new tech Reeve had apparently implemented, and the man happily obliged by lightly peeling away the Velcro felt on the belly. Cait laughed like he was being tickled.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Reeve went on as Tseng carefully inspected the cat's wired guts. "As it were, he's number four in the line; with five sitting in my house back in Midgar. I'm almost done with him too."

Tseng was vaguely impressed; Reeve had a knack for robotics, and it showed as he handled the Cait creature. "He responds to touch?" He asked, genuinely intrigued.

A glowing smile was his first reply, like a proud father bragging about his newborn baby. "New, specially advanced Tactile sensors in his whiskers, gloves, and nose," he pointed out. "So in a sense, he truly does have an almost human sense of touch."

Tseng nodded, resting the surprisingly light-weight mech on one arm to see how heavy it was. "No heavier than someone's obese cat," he commented. "You'd think he'd be heavier."

"Carbon-alloy skeleton, among other things."

"I'm surprised you don't run an advanced robotics division," Tseng said as he turned the constantly chortling feline around. The tail playfully whipped his face once, but it was gentle. "The Turks could've done with a machine like this. In fact, I think we still can."

"You flatter me," Reeve grinned, his slightly lined face suddenly a decade younger. "But surely you didn't drag me in here just to lavish praise to my new S.I.T.H?"

"No, I didn't," that's when Tseng jerked his arm; and a tiny flash drive slid free of his forearm. He effortlessly slid it to the Cait mech, who batted at his hands like a true feline. The animated mech managed to easily slip the drive into one of his gloves, his ears flicking back towards Reeve.

"I wanted to ask," Tseng went on to say, politely replacing the Velcro skin and handing the suddenly frisky feline back to its owner. "I could've swore this meeting was the one where you proposed to insert a Cait Sith into AVALANCHE?"

"It needn't address," the man's next smile was more wane this time. "Rufus already gave me the green-light for it."

"Did he now?"

"Hm."

Tseng nodded, "Well then, what about the Space Division? Its not going to be shut down yet, is it?"

Reeve gave a more relaxed shrug at that, "Rufus was going to address that next time. He didn't think today was the appropriate day."

The Turk rested his eyes onto the Cait creature, watching at he played around with his own booted feet like some bored toddler. "Okay. That's answers two of my three questions. Now for the favor," his stony expression hardened. "I wanted to ask; can the Turks borrow one of your S.I.T.H's for some recon?"

"Is this for your side-search for Hojo?" Reeve asked.

The new Head of the Research branch let slip the tiniest smile here; the gesture subtle. "No," he smoothly replied. "Its for something a little... different."


	8. Out of the Crypt

_**Man. Where to start?**_

_**Let's do this: **_

_**IMPORTANT: A little warning for those of you easily susceptible to panic attacks; watch out for the last part of the last two section's with Cloud and Zack's viewpoints. Figured I'd be nice and let you know now.**_

_**Now for the random banter: Let's just say, I was both excited writing this one, and hating every second of it. How many times have I erased hours worth of work simply because I hated the dialogue? Or wishing I've moved the characters along onto newer things by now? Seriously, I think I actually lost sleep over it. **__**Ugh... I apologize if this is somehow lacking in what you'd expect. I was hoping to do more with it, but the chapter was already getting too damn long with not enough happening. **_

_**As it were, it'll start out happy and cute, but lemme tell ya; it ain't gonna end that way. Just be aware of that. **__**I hope you enjoy it anyways though.**_

* * *

~777~

So, Zack and Cissnei's oh-so important study week went pretty much like this:

Get up quietly so the owners of the inn don't know you're there, shower quickly, cloak and sneak to the manor, read for hours and hours, cloak and sneak back, rinse and repeat. Whenever Zack got hungry, his Turk companion brought him food during the middle of the day; all without him ever leaving the manor too. She ordered enough food to raise brows, but hopefully they all figured her a big eater (because in truth, she really _could_ stomach enough food to surprise someone like Zack).

The times Zack had to dress for the day, it got awkward sharing a room with Cissnei. The two used the bathroom to change at least- but there's a weird moment when Zack had been in the bathroom pulling up his britches when Cissnei walked in on him; distracted as she was with her phone. She dropped it on the floor and turned beet-red; until she belatedly noted that the man was at least decently covered already. Zack made fun of her for it though; despite the fact that Cissnei _may _now know of what brand of underwear he uses. To be fair though, he did forget to lock the latch; not that he saw much need for it when your only company is someone like Cissnei.

When Cissnei bought the whole room on the top floor out, it thankfully meant that Zack at least had a place to rest. With there being three mattresses to chose from too (which was silly in Zack's opinion), two were occupied each night. As long as Zack made his bed every time he left the inn, hopefully nobody suspected he's there. Cissnei wouldn't let him leave the room without her and his respirator though; but its for a good reason as far as he cared. Still, the pair had to be extra careful in navigating the tiny village every time they went out.

At a more hilarious and useless point in the middle of the week though, his day began somehow like this:

Zack wakes up as usual, heads to the shared bathroom to use it before the copper-headed princess locks him out for five-ever, and stops in front of the mirror. He made faces at it for a second; looking for pimples and pointedly ignoring his ugly star-shaped scar marring his proud temple- until he noticed something _absolutely, horrifyingly unusual _about his grim-looking reflection in particular:

Facial hair!

Its minimal, microscopic maybe, but there; a _very _fine, shadowy semblance of it stubbing along his _handsome_ jaw-line. He poked at it a few times in measured shock, blinking rapidly at the random development like he grew a second head. Now, Zack always figured himself more on the fair-skinned side (a pun he used on more than just a few occasions); resembling his mother's side more often than not. Even when he hit his teen years, he never needed a razor- _Ever_.

But this... He never expected to wake up one random morning feeling and looking like his ol' man. Or Angeal. Or a horrible combination of the two. Its just unheard of! And sadly, even Zack Fair of all people was susceptible to a certain level of vanity as he continued to ponder his reflection ogling back at him. Between this and the insidious scars Hojo and Hendel left on him already, he wasn't sure how much more bruising and battery his continually plummeting ego could take.

Still, a sign such as _manly_ facial hair shouldn't be so disturbing; and really, it isn't. But to be frank, Zack preferred not to look like some hairy barbarian before he could actually meet up with Aerith again. And the last time he saw her before his deployment, the girl did make a rather interesting comment on his criminally smooth good looks. So getting rid of this rugged appearance became a matter of pride on a whole different caliber at that.

Zack yelped in belated realization when he noted that he hadn't really practiced with a razor recently either; not since before Nibelheim and once during his stay at the Condor's nest-Inn. Its not to say he _couldn't _use one per se, but its more like he's never used one for his _**FACE **_before. He'd carried a razor or two around for more a couple of private reasons, but he wondered how to deal with _this_.

Zack shook his head and was suddenly glad he owned a respirator mask. He knew he's likely going to cut his wonderful self doing this a few times. He prayed Cissnei wouldn't laugh too hard at him for it either. To say the least though, let's just say that's the day Zack started to actually feel old- even though he wasn't.

And as expected, Cissnei did wonder later on why he's wearing the mask he didn't need previously during their sneaky study sessions. Thankfully, she'd dismiss it and not badger him about it because the manor _was _pretty moldy and rank- Until she saw the guilty evidence of his tiny failures in the bathroom trash that same day. And _then_ noted him still wearing the damn mask while they're at the inn, sitting in their beds just as they're about to go to bed.

"Take it off," she'd told him.

"No," he pointedly replied, knowing that she knew.

"It can't be that bad. Just take it off," she sighed, trying to be as nice as possible about it. "I promise I won't laugh."

"Oh, _you'll _laugh," he retorted rather dryly, hands crossed under his head. His leg kicked away impatiently as it hung from the side of the bed. "Just lemme alone," he grumped.

The girl suddenly crawled onto his bed, instantly putting him on guard. She neatly folded her hands onto her lap, her expression exasperated. "Zack, I really don't see why its such a big deal. Surely it can't be comfortable wearing that thing all day?"

"I have suddenly grown metal facial hair," he replied in a stiff, but somewhat joking manner. "Its permanently stuck to my face."

"Seriously?"

"As a stroke," He flatly replied. He then tried to laugh it off next, "Why you gotta be all in my _face _about it anyways?"

"Ugh. Zack," she groaned. "I swear by our all-mother Minerva's holy name I won't laugh," she told him again in her most stern manner. "But you don't need to be so ashamed for crying out loud! This is a good sign!"

"Huh?" he tilted his head at her. "Whaddya mean?"

The girl smirked earnestly at him, "You'd been stuck in Hojo's lab for so long, Hendel thought something in his experiments would've complicated you and Cloud's still-growing bodies. You guys were both teens when you put you under. But this?" she threw a lazy hand at him. "This means your body is _finally _catching up to the years you missed! This is good! In fact, maybe we can use this as a means of disguising your face without having to use the respirator mask some days."

Zack blew a rasberry at her, "I think I liked it better when I had my trademark, sexy, baby-faced look!" He planted a hand on the bottom of his unseen chin next, "Ya know, now that I'm thinking of it; I wouldn't have minded eternal youth and godly manliness for all my living days as a side-effect of Hojo's poking. It would've been the one good thing he did, if nuthin' else."

"Great Minerva you're so full of yourself," she mused, the girl deciding not to comment on the fact that 'trademark' didn't necessarily mean 'good' nowadays. As it were, Zack's strange inability to grow facial hair back then was noted by the few people that knew him; and so having it now was more a boon than anything.

"Oh? You just _now _noticed?" He raised a brow at her.

Cissnei rolled her cinnamon eyes. "Zack, seriously. You don't need to wear that to bed-"

"What if I said I wanted too?"

"Oh my god, now you're being ridiculous. Stop making such a big deal about it."

"And what if I said _you're _the one making a big deal about it?"

"Zack, take it off."

"MAKE ME!"

"Challenge accepted," She impassively replied, her eyes narrowing into cat-like slits.

Needless to say, the two duked it out like college kids; Cissnei eventually winning the battle with an under-handed strike to his already bruised ego. She managed to use her Turk training to disarm him too; twisting his arm around when he's distracted. She easily swiped the mask off with a grin of victory following suit. But then she saw his face-

And promptly died laughing that day.

And she didn't just laugh: Like, she laughed as pointedly and as loudly as she could without bothering the inn-keepers downstairs. She didn't mean too (in some part), but the laughter simply poured out like untapped water; so much so the girl was holding her waist and nearly rolling off of the bed in the process. And as for Zack, he was never allowed live down that day onward.

On a side note, at least from that point forward, embarrassing moments between the two became a relatively frequent thing- And its something one nor the other would let either forget when they did happen.

At least for today, even Zack had his laugh when he heard his Turk companion's silly-sounding, breathless, childish snorting and ended up chortling like a bloody fool himself; and for reasons the girl actually couldn't guess. He managed to actually hear her laugh for _real _today, and its for the very first time ever since he got to know her years ago. For him, he counted that as a win all in itself.

And that's just fine with him.

* * *

~777~

However, as was typical in their week here in this horrible place, Zack did find ways to make Cissnei's life a living Hell for that little incident:

"Cissnei, Guess what?" He deliberately prodded, blatantly interrupting her reading when he felt she was too into it.

"Zack, _don't,_" she almost snarled warningly, a little on the irritable side this fine day. Its bad enough that whenever he felt like he needed to break up the mind-numbing monotony of their research, he had to do it in a way that's most likely to piss her off.

He grinned wolfishly, unsettling her nerves further. "Guess what?" He said again.

"Not-uh. I'm not indulging this."

"I was just gonna say-"

"No."

"-That I wanted to-"

"_No_."

"-Give ya a new nickname!" He grinned.

_Why do I get the feeling I'm going to hate it?_

The Turk girl groaned quite audibly. She mentally checked the page number, temporarily closed the book, and then faced him. "Gee, what did you have in mind?" She breathed in a resigned, sardonic manner. Maybe if she heard him out and didn't say anything more she'd get this over with.

The man had gotten to his feet at some point, his stack of books lying temporarily forgotten. "I was just a thinkin'," he smirked, his expression good-humored. "-That I might just start calling you- drum-roll please- _Sissie! _'Cause it sounds like Cissnei, but cuter!"

"Oh _HELL _no," She bristled, promptly grabbing one of the books she just got done reading and chucking it at his head for good measure. He dodged, but he wasn't going to avoid them all. She got lucky when one conked his backside and it distracted him long enough for her to finally nail him in his stupid, napkin-dotted, freshly clean-shaven face.

And when that wasn't enough (it never was), he got up and made a profound nuisance of himself like this:

He'd close up his book when he finished it, wandered over to her, and leaned as much into her personal space as he could. And then, he'd start _playing around with her freaking hair _while making annoying sound effects. The audacity of it actually caught the girl off guard the first time it happened. She brushed him off initially-

But then he'd come back, and deliberately floofed her hair every time he passed her by. It became a repetitive cycle that wound up with her struggling to detangle her locks before going to bed each night. Zack would watch her struggle, and then when she got done, he'd go over there and _deliberately _get her in a strangle-hold and ruffle it back. As some point, she almost socked him in the bullocks just to make him stop.

On a slightly more serious note, Zack wasn't always deliberately being a restless jerk: Just until he felt like his eyes were going to glue themselves shut after long hours spent reading. Believe it or not, he _did _truly go through more than a hundred or so books in this span of time; maybe more. This was truly and miraculously astounding for someone of Zack's boundless energy. And to his credit, he wouldn't give up until he's thoroughly finished the book he's holding.

Eventually however, even a dedicated SOLDIER of his caliber can be whittled into nothing but a pile of restless nerves that needed an outlet- And bothering Cissnei just so happened to be that easy outlet. She tolerated it to an extent though; knowing Zack needed _some _means of relieving his pent-up, steadily building stress. He hated it here, and she understood that.

So, the times she saw Zack put down a book and huff, she knew its _that hour_\- the hour where she'd have to put up with his childish outbursts while he paced around like some cornered animal. In a way, she actually felt a little sorry for him. But man can he be horribly, sinfully, _painfully __**annoying**__._

_No wonder Angeal started dying his hair, _she thought as she watched Zack bounce from wall to wall in the cavernous halls, moaning about how bored he was. AGAIN.

"Hey Sissie?"

She sighed, knowing _exactly _what he's going to say. She was starting to wonder if there's something in the food she brought him that's making him this restless. Of course, she also didn't reply to the new name, which was unfortunately _sticking._

_God forbid he tells Reno. _

"Hey Sissie," he tried again.

"Zack," she said in an impatient drone, intending on cutting him off. "If you keep using that name, I'm going to find some way to get you castrated and send what little of you is left to your folks. And then I'm going to give them my condolences for not 'joining the family'," she stated rather mildly but with a firm menace that firmly clammed the other up.

"_Oh my god. _Did they _really _ask you that?" He gawped.

"Uh-huh. So I suggest you shut it or I'll find a welding torch and seal both of your holes closed," she politely intoned as she continued to poor over her current tome.

"So embarrassing," he muttered.

Silence reigned, but not for very long. Not ten minutes later he was saying, "I'm bored," and moseying around the hall in a relentless lope. His pacing was starting to get on her nerves; and its too easy for him to tick her off when she didn't have any coffee that day. For all she knew, he could be doing this on purpose.

Cissnei rolled her eyes, "Then do some squats."

"But I wanna do _stuff_."

"What kind of stuff?" _Don't indulge him._

"Stuff stuff."

"You mean you're hungry and you want to actually go out for food?" _Don't say anything else, dammit._

"Yes."

"I'm busy," she stiffly replied from over her book. "And you should be too."

"But I'm hungry _nooowww_," he bemoaned while swinging gracefully around a support beam in the basement hall like some professional pole dancer.

Cissnei was forced to wonder where the heck the guy learned to move like that, despite his still healing injuries. On a side note, it clearly showed his rapid pace in said healing; and it meant he'd be good and ready for tougher jobs in the very near future. _But not so soon_, she concluded; considering he got winded pretty fast as it was.

"Let's go outside town and eat now!" he loudly proclaimed.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head in one motion, "No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Ugh. No Zack."

"Zack yes."

"Zack no."

"Zack yes."

"Zack, _no_," she snorted.

And when he fell uncharacteristically silent, she was prompted to look up from her work and noticed that the man had indeed vanished.

_Oh not again... Minerva so help me. This freaking idiot will be the end of me_, she thought with an aggrieved sigh as she went to find him.

Later on, she'd find the man _fucking hanging upside down from the creaky old chandelier in the main foyer. _He was doing these upside-down pull-ups, huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf in the stories. How it hadn't broken was beyond her.

"Oh my lord- ZACK!" She called up to him, face-palming in the process. "Get down from there before you hurt yourself _MORE_! Tseng isn't gonna pay your next hospital bill if you break your own damn neck! And I won't _either _for that matter!"

He grinned rather maliciously at her, "Ya know, last time I checked, wasn't I your responsibility?"

"You're my _partner_. Not my charge!"

Zack grabbed one arm of the chandelier with both hands, unwinding his legs from an adjacent branch. He expertly twisted them around above him, and then wrapped them around another dusty branch in an effort to relocate some of the weighted burden upon it. He hung there with both arms crossed behind his head, looking rather completely in his element almost two whole stories above her.

"Same difference," he grinned rather brightly. "You're the one that's been acting like my nanny this whole mission! And you _volunteered _for it, last I checked!"

"That still doesn't mean you can go around acting like a damn _kid _just because you feel like it!"

"Then let's go eat! And get piss drunk!"

"Not when we haven't found _a damn thing _during this whole mission," Cissnei retorted sharply. "Besides! Its like three in the afternoon. Who drinks at this hour?"

"Oh my god, I can't believe I'm hearing this from a workaholic of all things," he muttered. "Especially one whose usually the first to suggest boozy breaks." Zack huffed as he bent and contorted his body, taking a moment to formulate his next reply. He then jabbed a finger at her, "Okay, first off, I _would_ if I could right now. Secondly, you need to loosen up. You Turks work so many straight hours in a row and don't take breaks: Doncha know that kinda thing messes with your head?"

Cissnei folded her arms, "I would've been fine if a certain somebody _didn't hide the freaking coffee grinds _when he first got up."

Zack blew another familiar rasberry at her, "That ain't a break; this is!"

And to her abject horror, Zack was seen swinging his weight to and fro; jerking the chandelier with him in each hap-hazard motion. From her viewpoint, it looked very much like he was trying to _break it on purpose_.

"Oh my God Zack! Don't-"

He leapt off; twisting his spine as a cat would right itself in mid-drop. He flipped sideways and forward once; and then landed adeptly on the ground with a roll. He shot back to his feet and let out a profound "Nailed it!" as he turned to face her. At the sight of her worried expression, he couldn't help himself. "Dawwww. I knew you cared more then ya let on," he sneered.

"I was concerned about the chandelier, not _you _you wise-ass piss-ant," she planted her hands on her hips. "We wanted to leave the manor in the same condition we found it in-"

"That makes one of us," Zack made no effort to disguise his contempt here; not that Cissnei blamed him inwardly. He glared up at the thing above, as if expecting it to drop as he likely expected. When it didn't yield to his silent command, he harrumphed and folded his arms like a spoiled child whose fun just got ruined, "Other than that, let's go for a _real _break; not just grab a quick snick-snack and eat in this _horrible _place. Who knows; maybe you can get your coffee fix too!"

"Ugh. I _knew _you hid those packs on purpose," she snorted.

Zack shrugged at her shamelessly, his shit-eating grin followed by a cheeky wink for good measure.

And thus Cissnei forever wondered how Aerith ever tolerated dating this guy for almost two straight years. _I'll give her a medal the next time I see her_, was her last thought then. _Minerva, give me the strength to finish this week in one piece._

* * *

~777~

Thankfully, those times Zack can be a rude, insufferable, restless little shit was fairly rare; only when he _truly _felt trapped in this god-forsaken place. Cissnei could count on one hand (or maybe both) the number of times he'd pipe up like some spoiled toddler with ADHD. In a way though, his condition kept him from doing these kinds of random, crazy things for any extended period of time (something she's silently gracious for). He'd burn himself out after a few minutes, and then he'd rejoin the Turk in the basement with a weirdly solemn air and resume what he's doing. And he wouldn't budge for quite a long time; as if all of his energy for the day was spent.

As it were, the week _was _admittedly boring; and the pair haven't found anything helpful to their cause. In a way, Zack's irritating bouts helped break up the tedium- effectively, at that. Whatever little they did manage to find though was indeed reports on some of Gast's earlier work; and even then Cissnei couldn't help wondering why so little of it was actually here.

And the weird part? _None _of it was relevant to the term 'Jenova' or the projects stemming from it. Its as if anything related to it was purposely removed.

_Zack might just be right in this instance, _she noted. _They must've cleaned this place out after Nibelheim's destruction._

Across from her, Zack yawned again for the tenth time these past twenty minutes. His eyes slipped shut once, but then he jerked himself abruptly upright and shook his head. He smacked his cheeks and popped his book back open, his neon-tinted crystal eyes sharp as stained glass again. Albeit, not for very long she quickly noticed.

Cissnei was pretty sure Zack's dedication to helping Cloud and more obscured worry for his own condition was what's keeping the guy here at all. She slipped him a smile he yet again didn't see (not the first nor last time its happened), and returned her own attention to the old tome in her hand. Seeing him act his old self though was a blessed relief at least, and it helped free her mind.

When he wasn't being a hyper-wound nuisance, he truly was endearing; and its something she'd never readily admit to anyone- Not even to her own reflection. Cissnei always found Zack's profound honesty, dedication, and undying loyalty some of his strongest traits. And she wasn't even including his pro-active approach to any difficulty thrown his way. He can get a smile out of anyone if he really tried.

Literally, how can any man be so good? Naive, annoying, and full of himself... and as of recently, weirdly withdrawn in one way or another- but good, no less. Its unreal how kind-hearted he was; and its disarmed her more than once. Zack's character was what really opened her eyes to the world beyond her Turk life.

_And its really no wonder Tseng saw fit to save his life_, she added inwardly, smiling contentedly to herself. _Only someone like Zack could possibly make a friend out of man as reclusive as Tseng._

Its no secret in the Turks- Tseng was a single man with no family, no relations, and _especially _no interest in romance. If there's one thing he did love, if nothing else, was his brothers and sisters in the Turks. He loved them like they're his blood- And being raised inside Shinra as he was meant that any family he'd ever have was those very same individuals.

Okay, he may have a gentle, unmentionable soft spot for the Ancient; but that's besides the point.

On the side, Cissnei grew up within their fold with no beheld expectation of finding a normal life herself, not unlike Tseng. She had no family before them, and likely never would have any of her own. Hell, the girl had been an _orphan _before she met Sir; and its something no one but Tseng and two others in the Turks (both outside members) knew about. God forbid she told a big softie like Zack that she had no memory of anything happy except meeting him and even loving some parts of her shitty, morally questionable job.

She also never had any interest in men _that way_ before she met Zack- The company she usually surrounded herself with was family; and she'd been happy with just that once. Her work life and her 'social' life was a cohesive unit at one point; but somewhere along the way, some sort of blurred line emerged between the two. She figured it had something to do with her introduction to Zack; when a friend _outside _of the Turks popped into her life like some giant middle finger and waved 'HI!' at her. So, she learned the definition of outside, inside. It didn't seem so strange at first.

Not until she she noticed too late what Zack's company truly did do to her.

Every time there's ever a fight or difficult situation, Cissnei never flinched. But even despite the cold, logistical ways a Turk would greet a combat scenario, even a seasoned one like Tseng or Cissnei would sometimes feel shaken in the worst of them. But with Zack beside her, Cissnei always _knew _the situation would be resolved. Zack was a grounded source of calm; and his cheerful personality was always sure to keep your own light as a feather. He'd willingly take the beating, laugh about it, and dish it back out. And its secretly something Cissnei wished she had the ability and confidence to do.

But that wasn't the only thing: Every time Zack left to see Aerith, Cissnei minded more than she thought. Originally, it's only because the subject- Aerith, was a delicate and easily frightened quarry. Her morbid fear of Shinra made her liable to run; like some frightened doe being hunted down by a pack of rabid guard-hounds. Some of the Turks thought Zack's presence may even prompt Aerith to run away from Midgar or something.

However, it seemed his presence did the _opposite_: Aerith became drawn to him; smitten with his company and emboldened by his loud proclamations to keep her safe whenever he slayed some sort of errant monster or deflected some creepy dude trying to stalk her. She stopped being afraid of the possibility of being abducted, and it allowed the Turks the ability to observe her _far _more easily. The girl stopped ducking away, approached strangers more readily, and discovered a niche about herself that gave her the confidence she needed to bloom. She spent every moment she could with Zack the times he appeared; and it couldn't have been more obvious just how fond the two were of each other.

However, sometime around Angeal's death, that's when Cissnei finally noticed that Zack's departure to see the cute little flower girl suddenly became more than just a slight interruption in their observation.

Minerva forbid, she noticed this slight, itty bitty pin-prick of _something _she didn't understand at first. Now Cissnei was clueless, but it certainly baffled her until she learned to identify it as a faint kernel of _envy_. She buried it well enough, and coped throughout the time he dated the Ancient. She's pretty fine with it; their jobs would've already put them at odds with each other as it is. Besides, the two of them had a great time in the other's company, but as friends only.

Tangents aside, Cissnei simply blatantly ignored her affection for Zack; knowing the man only truly wanted Aerith anyways. It didn't mean she wasn't sweet on him though, and for reasons that went beyond the whole 'infatuation' thing: Honestly, Cissnei was kind to Zack because she genuinely wanted to be there for him. She _wanted _to be his friend when he had no one else, and she enjoyed his company. He's good to her, and trusted her despite her crap occupation.

_And I'm fine with that, _she told herself early on in realizing this epiphany, some long time ago.

"Heya, Cissnei?"

_Oh no. It can't __**that **__time already._

"Hm?" The Turk girl looked up, blinking off her growing weariness. She was about ready to put the book down for the day anyway.

What she found instead was not the playful, unruly appearance of a rambunctious asshole waiting to shit on her parade; but that of an earnestly concerned comrade giving her his most honest expression. His stare kept her locked in place; eyes almost beseechingly searching her over all appearance for whatever's causing his growing worry.

"You doin' okay?" Zack slowly asked. "You haven't been quite all there today-"

Cissnei hummed, waving him off. "I'm fine," she told him, forcing herself to look away from his intense scrutiny. "I'm just tired of being here."

"You and me both," he agreed with a slow nod. He promptly shut his book and carelessly tossed it over his shoulder, like he's throwing away garbage. He languorously stretched out his long limbs, groaning and throwing himself flat onto the floor in a tired heap.

The Turk decided to quit as well, sighing heavily. "This was supposed to be our last day here, but-" She shook her head, promptly slamming the dusty book shut with a finalized snap. "Its just been a great waste of time."

Zack hummed lowly, obviously picking up on her trait in sympathetic reverie. His arms crossed underneath his head, cryo-colored eyes arrested on the ceiling above.

The Turk put the book back on its proper shelf in heavy resignation, looking rather contrite. "I'm so sorry Zack," she suddenly said, her energy seeping from her in waves. "I actually thought we'd find something here, but... You must be so disappointed-"

"Yeah, but... don't get me wrong," he sighed, keeping his eyes on the basement ceiling. "I'm kinda upset, but not as much as I thought."

"Huh?"

He blinked, his expression strangely untroubled despite their painstakingly long search. "Its just like, every time I actually picked up a book and opened it, I always felt super anxious or somethin'. Like I might just find the answer to my questions and be sorry for knowin'. Ya know?" He turned towards her, lying lazily on his side with a hand propped under his head. "To be really honest, I already knew what's _kinda _wrong with me an' Cloud, but I also don't. Not all of it anyway."

"What do you mean?" Cissnei rested her hands on her lap, her face slipping defensively into its signature flatness without her realizing it.

Zack shrugged lopsidedly, "I know this much; some time back, I ran into- if you can believe it- _Genesis _of all things. And he just wouldn't stop being a great pain in my ass."

"Genesis is _alive_?" Cissnei gasped.

The ex-SOLDIER dismissively waved off the question, "Naw. He's long gone- and has been. I saw to that myself." His smile emerged, but it didn't contain the usual cocky mirth Cissnei was familiar with. "See, apparently Genesis has been doing his research too: he told me that what coulda stopped his degradation in the end was some of Sephiroth's cells. He couldn't find any though, and then went promptly after _me and Cloud_."

When his cool blues met her warmer amber pair, Cissnei couldn't help her stiffening back and increasingly impassive expression.

"-Apparently, Hojo put Sephiroth's cells into us. Its something I knew long before Hendel told me about it," Zack finally confirmed. "But beyond that, I really don't know much else- and that's what I'm worried about. And when you consider how freakin' strong Cloud got, it makes ya wonder if its really _just _Sephiroth's cells that's doing it... We both know Hojo wouldn't just stop at half measures."

_No, he wouldn't, _Cissnei agreed.

When she caught Zack's next expression, she couldn't help noticing his suddenly frigid mask. The times he shifted into the darker planes of his psyche, his anger and frustration trapped and warring within himself like some vast typhoon, it could be scary. Thankfully, he kept the emotions in check and usually found fast ways to ventilate his stress- like squats, hanging upside down from the chandelier in the main foyer, more squats, or annoying the living daylights out of her as of recently. She wouldn't put it past him to employ tactics Angeal himself could've used too. To say the least, the guy loved to occupy his time with physical activity before his injuries complicated matters.

_Its no wonder he's been badgering me lately. I'm all he's got when nothing else works._

"Cissnei," he said, getting her attention when it briefly strayed. "Did you... Did you know about this? About me and Cloud being here?"

The girl cautiously looked up, keeping her dead-pan mask in place. "No," she replied as honestly as she could. "I mean, I knew you went on assignment sometime back, and I never saw you around the SOLDIER floor for a while... But when I got the message that you were K.I.A..."

The man sat back up, resting his arms on his drawn-up knees with a carefully guarded mask stitched in place of his own. It always got weird or scary when he wore that face. "You didn't believe it," he went on in this emotionless tone. "Right?"

Cissnei hung her head. A part of her knew where this conversation was going; and personally, she wanted to avoid instilling any negative feelings he may still foster for the Turks and their in-action to do anything. To be really honest though, another part of her was shocked this topic wasn't breached sooner after his release from the hospital.

"I didn't know what to think," she truthfully admitted. "All I know is that, even if I went to Tseng and asked, which I did by the way-" she quickly added. "-All I got was silence on the matter. I never really learned of what happened to you specifically."

The man sighed, his eyes drawn and his shoulders slumping. "Figures," he muttered. "Pretty sure Tseng didn't want to bog down one of his own with a truth like that."

"No. I guess he didn't," she shrugged. "And its not like he could've done anything; he wasn't in charge at the time. There's a lot of things that went on after Nibelheim; not that I'm making up an excuse or anything." She then began to tick off, "A fall-out and huge cover-up scheme to erase the evidence of its destruction aside; another mass desertion in SOLDIER happened because Sephiroth's no longer in it; AVALANCHE became an even _bigger _problem than before- And the numbers in the Turks got cut down to a scant few. There wasn't much anyone could do."

Zack didn't say anything for a while, apparently absorbing her words. He nodded after a time, as if letting the topic finish sinking in.

Cissnei's eyes went to the floor, her well-honed mask of general indifference slipping free of her control. Cissnei had been raised with the mentality that keeping your facial expressions free of any indicators as much as possible was a means of defense. But around him, she loosened her guard more often than she'd ever admit; even before his deployment to the ill-fated town. She always hated not being able to do anything to help Zack; especially since he's her only friend outside of the Turks. She didn't want to alienate the one person that meant more to her than her own job, after all.

"The thing is," she began again, breaking up her train of thought. "If I'd knew you were the sample Hojo's been working on-"

The other jerked his head once, and then faced the Turk fully. He smiled again, but it contained fragility in its fleeting existence. "Cissnei, let's be realistic here," he replied seriously, but gently too. "You said it yourself; you couldn't have done much to help, right?"

The girl was suddenly moving one arm over to hold the other a tic she never let anyone outside of Zack and barely a handful of people in her life ever see. "That still doesn't mean I couldn't have _tried_," she emphasized, but in a smaller voice than expected.

Zack shook his head slowly at her; with a gentle, albeit concerned frown building upon his features. He quickly went to rectify this with, "And you woulda gotten hurt for it! I'm glad you didn't get caught helping me escape as it is." He shrugged next, eerily calm despite the gravity of their talk, "You gave me an' Cloud a ride, lied about losing sight of us, let me and Cloud leave Gongaga... You did enough for me. I'm grateful for it." His smile grew a little stronger on his face then, "You don't need to be feeling so damn bad for what happened. Okay? Forget I mentioned anything. You pretty much answered my questions anyhow."

_And if he actually remembered that it's me who saved his dumb-ass out there just as he's about to be gunned down by those last few squads, _She briefly weighed, remembering the last moments of that battle._ He'd find some worrisome, suicidal way to pay me back... And I don't think I can live with that._

The girl briefly wondered how Cloud got along on his day-to-day, with whatever knowledge he had of Zack. Was he remorseful of Zack's sacrifice? Did he remember it at all? Was he aware of all of the things Zack did for him for those months they spent getting to Midgar? And if he did, how does he deal with the weighty burden of being supposedly responsible for a friend's death? Did he ever mention Zack to the party and- gods forbid- _Aerith _for crying out loud?

The guy had severe mako addiction, last she recalled. So, it stood to reason that his memory would be foggy at best. Maybe he couldn't remember much of it, but that still didn't mean he'd forget what Zack did, did he? And if he didn't, how much of his guilt did he keep hidden; given he had any?

All these questions, at present, were put aside as her compatriot's sudden movement snagged her attention. Zack was seen rolling his body to a focal point somewhere along the nape of his neck and pushed; jumping to his feet in deft fashion in a show of great athleticism. He beamed down at her, his arms spread like he's about to give the girl a great damn hug. "How about this," he offered, his jovial charm already at work. "We finish up for the day and go get drunk somewhere? Ya know, before we end up on some other shit assignment that'll take away our time."

The girl blinked, nodding to his words as she went to stand. "I- Okay," she finally relented. "That actually sounds like a good idea for once. Kinda."

"Of course it is," He pumped an eager fist at that. "I'm just full of 'em!"

"Well, you're full of _something_; but its certainly not great ideas," the girl tried to joke, although her voice just couldn't pick up on the change in mood fast enough. It still held a solemn note in it, but she beat it down as she went on, "-And I'm pretty sure its mostly reckless, random crap you just feel like doing most of the time. Like mountain climbing or something."

The man let out a gusty laugh at that. "How'd ya guess?" He crookedly replied, hoping to succeed in his endeavor to perk her up.

Cissnei shook her head; if she didn't know better, she would've thought his abrupt change in mood unusual for some reason. She'd notice later on that it may even be considered suspicious somehow.

"Okay," she finished drawing herself out of her rueful position and looked around the messy archives. "-We need to make sure all of our things are packed. Tomorrow, we'll be leaving this one-chocobo town behind." She managed to find some semblance of good cheer in this, a more honest smile finding its way to her lips. "We'll find Tseng, get our next mission, and see if he's learned anything from Hendel and the other Turks. Hopefully, we can learn what kind of plan he has in mind for Aerith too."

"Right!"

He began picking up the chaotic mess of books around him almost _eagerly_, his movements hurried in some way or another. Cissnei did the same, helping the man correctly place the books where they rightfully belonged. Eventually, when the two were done, Zack paused with his hands on his hips; his eyes cold, unreadable shards for some strange reason. Cissnei internally worried if their earlier conversation was still a source of great agitation, but then noted his eyes dart down the hall fleetingly.

"Hey uh... Cissnei, I'd like to propose something-" He began slowly.

"Geez Zack. You haven't even taken me out to dinner yet," she said in an attempt to bring back that cheer he usually had. She hated seeing his expression stay so serious in all honesty; especially after he'd tried so hard to lift her own spirits.

Zack's expression briefly broke, and then his smile came back in full force. He laughed, and its a relieving sound that brought a chuckle out of the girl too. The two sat there and cackled like twins for a moment, but then Zack ironically straightened himself out before his companion.

"Okay, as funny as that is," he grinned, jabbing a finger at her. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"Well that's a first," Cissnei flippantly replied.

The ex-SOLDIER shook his head, his expression dimming some, "Yeah well, I uh... Thing is, I've been giving this some thought-"

Once his smile died over-all, Cissnei knew the topic of the conversation was going to take a more dramatic turn. She gave the man her most pensive attention, wondering what in all the world could be troubling him so much. _Come to think of it, _she realized. _He's been morose all day._

His hand went to the back of his scruffy head, his eyes darting to the floor once. "You uh... Yunno that chained-up door there?"

_Ohhhhh no._

"Zack," Cissnei's expression flashed, her tone firm. "You and I both know we can't be leaving any traces-"

"Just hear me out," he held up both hands in a submissive manner. "Please?"

Cissnei folded her arms, her mahogany brows stiff upon her countenance.

Zack's eyes once again flashed down the hall, "See, the thing is... I'm sitting here wonderin' why we can't find anything, but then I thought this: This is Hojo's _research _material we're looking for. He'd need that stuff around for whenever he came back, right? He can't be haulin' it all over- and he _does _'research' a lot of stuff..."

"Right," Cissnei drawled uncertainly.

"-He'd hafta have this stuff laying around _some-fuck-where _in the manor, but we've already pretty much explored this place from top-to-bottom. The one place we haven't looked is in that room in particular," Zack's arms folded next, and his expression darkened. "So, I came down to this thought: Five years ago, when I first came down here, that room _wasn't locked up like that. _I mean, it was locked, but not like how it is now. Is that not weird to you?"

Cissnei blinked, and then looked down the hall at the door next. "Yeah," she admitted, starting to see his point. "It is..."

The ex-SOLDIER nodded, "Right. It only got sealed up like that _after _this place got cleaned out, most likely. Hell, it wasn't even locked up like that when I first escaped from here just a few months ago!"

"And that's just before the last inspection," the Turk muttered.

The taller individual nodded assuredly, "Right again. And uh, 'member when you told me he wanted to send Cloud back here? He might've had all of it moved in there by then- theoretically speaking." His jaw clenched briefly, "You also told me that Hojo's lab was already checked out in Midgar, and its a dead-end. So, it stands to reason that Hojo never removed his research from the testing site, since it wasn't in Midgar in the first place, right?"

_That makes sense._

Zack continued, "In a tight enough situation, Hojo would only need to hide it from only one thing- The Turks, who he knows would go rummaging through his shit at some point 'cuz of his generally suspicious behavior. He also knows you guys wouldn't put a toe outta line; seeing as you told me the Turks were on thin ice with the company lately. So of course he'd put it in a place you guys will see, but won't bother with because rules and risks and all that shit. Get it?"

_Gods above. DUH!_

Cissnei turned back towards him and grinned brightly for once, "You know, I knew Tseng recruited you for a reason."

He winked cheekily at her, and then strode past. "I'll get the chains," he said. "We'll replace those with new ones after I break 'em. We'll make it look like we were never here."

"How about this," the girl stopped him. "I unlock them with this tool kit I have? I never get to use it."

"Holy shit. You have one of those?" He jolted.

The girl had her turn to wink at him, smiling just as brightly.

The two went down to the door, Cissnei stopping to survey the type and make of the locks before her. After a brief evaluation, she turned to Zack and told him to wait while she went to fetch her things; which was sitting back at the inn. After all, its not like they could find a key here; it may even still be on Hojo's person for all they knew.

_Seriously. Zack's not as dumb as people peg him to be, _Cissnei figured as she left. _Especially since I did just let him talk me into letting him open that door too._

Cissnei tried to console herself with that fact that, yes, Zack's logic (a weird term within itself) was positively sound. There's that, and the fact that nobody technically told Cissnei that she _couldn't _open any suspiciously locked doors upon her coming here- She'd been telling the truth when she told Zack that no one mentioned a locked door in their last inspection. Its probably because they reacted the same as her- A default riposte to their training.

Her training implicitly mentioned she never touch a door like the one in hall, ironically enough. Turk or no, even they had a limit in where their snooping was limited to in a frequently used Shinra facility like this- They're not allowed to go beyond certain parameters despite their investigative liberties.

And for a man like Hojo to call upon that regimen like taking advantage of a trained dog's hard-wired habits was truly cunning. Of course he'd _only_ put something like this in plain sight in his utmost confidence that no one would breach it. Protocol was a second brain for the Turks- Especially since secrecy demanded that Turks leave as much of their environment as undisturbed as possible.

_And that's why Tseng hired Zack to help, _The girl acknowledged. _He isn't afraid to look in high places. SOLDIER may not have been trained like we were, but I suppose its why we get so many joint assignments together._

Eventually, the girl managed to bring back her work bag; which held her shuriken and a few other items of note. Zack watched as the girl went through the inventory and found what she's looking for; her unused lock-picking bundle she never touched in all of the years she had it. She tried to recall how to use it from memory; but managed to figure it out as she worked the mechanisms.

"Open sesame," She grinned as the coiled bunch of metal clanked onto the dirty floor.

"Nice," she heard her compatriot mouth close by.

Once she put it away, she stepped aside as Zack reached apprehensively for the door knob. She saw him pause, take a breath, and then hang his head. He passed her a fleeting, unexplainable, deadpan glance that left her no ability to read it whatsoever.

"Uh... Cissnei..."

"Hm?"

He turned to face her, flapped his lips, and then passed the door another suspicious glance. "The thing is," he began uncertainly. "About this room... You know how I said it wasn't locked up like this before?"

"Yeah?"

"I wasn't exactly lying or nothin', but uh," He folded his arms. "This door here, well, it was locked and all... But not like how it is now. As for what's in the room-"

Cissnei blinked at him a few times, and then put some weight on one of her legs. "You've been in this room before?"

"Yeah," he nodded to her, albeit with great reluctance. "I did rummage around in there, but I didn't find anything out of the ordinary at first. Its just-" He shook his head again, "I'm not sure how I can explain it without sounding nutty, but what I did see definitely freaked me out-"

"I don't want to sound rude, but get to the point," Cissnei pressed.

Zack's shoulders squared, his jaw clenching tightly as if he's being chastised. "Sorry," he added with a scratch to the back of his head. "Its just that, well... I thought I saw something- or someone... actually sleeping in there-?"

"Zack, did you see a corpse or a random hobo in there?" the girl almost rolled her eyes, but Zack's increasingly worried expression was starting to ring some warning bells of her own.

"I'm telling ya, I dunno what it was," he told her with some evident finality. "It coulda been a corpse, but I could've swore I saw him breathin' and all. It's in the middle coffin." He flicked his head, "What I don't get is why he's in a coffin that's _locked _up. The others weren't shut up like that. And now, all these years later, I can't help wonderin' why this damn door is locked the way it is after seeing something like that. I wouldn't mention this if I didn't think its not something to take seriously!"

Cissnei blinked at this, and then lifted a ponderous finger to her chin. "You think its a monster or one of Hojo's experiments?" she went on to ask.

"Maybe," he shrugged. "But uh, what I'm trying to say now though, is to say quiet and ignore the locked coffin. We take a peek, and then get the Hell outta Dodge. Know what I mean?"

"Alright," she nodded. "We'll do that."

"Okay then," Zack rubbed his palms together. "Quick and quiet."

He cracked the door open; using his shoulder to shove it all the way ajar. The man went slowly in first, his eyes a faint glimmer in the unerring darkness of the room beyond.

It was indeed _stark _darkness; the torches in the hall doing almost nothing to brighten the weirdly tangible gloom. Zack was forced to draw out one of his glaives and channel the materia's power within it; the crimson blade suddenly awash with lazy orange tongues of flame. With the rolling waves of tame yellows and reds gently kissing the steel, the two were able to see far more adeptly.

The interior was as drab as expected; the room spacious enough for two rows of six coffins, but only had three within. The somewhat huge, wooden casks were worn with decades worth of time; paint peeling and wood splintering in several regions. As it were, Cissnei did indeed see a vessel in the middle with a ridiculous series of heavy locks and chains all over; and it certainly unnerved her now that Zack had warned her about it.

The next thing she noticed was the musty, stagnant smell of still air and ambient dust floating around. The room hadn't been ventilated in so long (probably months) the girl was finding it hard to breath in here. Cissnei ended up bringing a hand to her mouth and coughing, hurriedly removing a protective facial mask from her tux and wrapping it around her head.

"Should've considered doing this before walking in here," she grumbled, watching as Zack went into a brief fit and abruptly fit his respirator mask over his own mouth. The man breathed deeply a few times, briefly struggling with the dank atmosphere. Cissnei gave him a worried look as she remembered his inability to breathe properly. "You okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he almost whispered, his timbre suddenly coarse. His now watery eyes was warily regarding the coffin in the middle though, his shoulders braced. Zack nonetheless gestured to the one on the far left and murmured in a low, cautious tone, "You take that one. I'll get the one on the right. If there still isn't anything, _I'll _check the middle, given you even wanna do that. Okay?"

The Turk nodded uncertainly, "We won't touch the middle if we find what we're looking for."

"Fine with me."

She listened to Zack's steps and grunts as he hauled open the right-most coffin, all the while she quickly surveyed her own. Cissnei carefully bent and _pushed_, barely mustering the strength needed to get the stupidly heavy thing part of the way open. When she did look inside, she was greeted with the breath-taking sight of absolutely _nothing_.

_A bunch of nothing, other than a cluster of big-ass spiders._

She sighed, and then hissed as loudly as she permitted herself, "I've got nothing in mine. Yours?" When Zack didn't answer, she turned and noted his intense expression zeroing in onto the contents of his casket. She stood and carefully meandered over. "Zack?" she gently called out.

He said nothing, but was seen moving one gloved hand into the darkness of his own cask. When he retrieved it next, he withdrew a couple of tightly sealed packs of paper. He gave the girl what she guessed was his most cock-sure grin; the corners of his eyes crinkling and his mako-charged stare a lit with thrumming surety.

"Pay-dirt," he murmured excitedly.

Cissnei smiled luridly at him, somewhat glad her mask was covering it. She knelt next to him, taking the papers while he continued to hold his glaive for her to see with. Cissnei was astonished to see that there's indeed _a lot _of vacuumed-sealed packs of files and missing books in this particular casket- and the dates on the fronts were of various years apart.

"Find the one from between five years to last year," she told him, not realizing her words. "I'm almost _positive _we'll find what Hojo did to you and Cloud."

Zack did pause, wondering why the girl spoke of the years she did and not mention the ones where Sephiroth was born- as was their mission. So, still a little shocked but pleasantly surprised by her concern, the man grinned at her. "And anything on Sephiroth too," he agreed, pointing out the original reason for their coming here.

Just as Cissnei grunted a slightly embarrassed affirmative, she heard the outrageous _BANG _of a flying piece of debris clatter behind her. The girl almost yelped in abject shock; but damn if she didn't jump in the process. Just as she jerked to her feet, Zack was there in front of her quicker than breath; pushing the girl protectively behind him.

Less than yards away, the broken remains of the middle coffin's lid lie in splintered, tooth-pick sized heaps all around it. The chains however, all were now lying in useless wads around the vessel; whilst the ones keeping the thing bound were broken as easily as one tearing tissue paper. And if that wasn't enough, the freaking door unceremoniously slammed shut _by its-freaking-self_; cutting off all sources of light with the exception of Zack's glaive. A vicious, warped sense of entrapment ensnared both man and woman as they realized this.

And if that all still hadn't been enough, a distinctly deep voice rose from somewhere _within _the now opened vessel:

_"__**To unseal the sinner's crypt, his final prison and resting place; and break the curse of the everlasting nightmare...**__" _It growled, the tone almost guttural._"__**To recite the name of her lost child and the one who'd taken away our lives as well...**__"_

The lively, writhing flicker of Zack's guiding flame abruptly wilted; the room plunging into further darkness than ever experienced. The flame persistently remained on the glaive, yes, but far weaker than before. However, the dim nature of the suddenly claustrophobic room did _nothing _to obscure the slowly ascending figure gradually drawing itself to its fullest height. Cissnei couldn't help her frightened gasp, feeling a slight weight settle upon her shoulders as she watched a mythical specter _rise from his freaking grave._

"_What do you know of Hojo?_"this unnamed something queried, almost politely for all intents and purposes.

This six-foot, wiry figure stood tall and ghastly before them, its high-collared cape a violent, rioting flare of Hell-born crimson. The tattered ends curled and twisted like bloody flames; blowing in an non-existent gale as if made alive by a great tempest. The figure's long, darker-than-absolute-pitch black hair behaved in a similar manner; barely kept in check by a ragged, red bandanna around his head. His thin, willowy body was cloaked in a dusty body-suit, held together with a series somewhat rusty belts fashioned around his waist. His boots were protected with gold-plated sabatons, and yet miraculously made no noise as he moved incrementally.

Cissnei thought she looked Death itself in the face that day; but it wasn't because of her own advent fright of the being before her. No- it's when she looked into his ancient eyes she saw the so-called gloom shadow blooming above this strange individual.

This man's eyes couldn't have been a better definition for _haunted_\- Dark-ringed, somnolent lanterns that glittered and guttered like dying ghost-fire: A wilted, feeble ember that struggled to burn on well-used coals. The deeply saturated shade of rueful burgundy was almost perfectly-wine colored; long and drawn with what appeared to be _decades _worth of torturous pain. They had the unorthodox, horrifying illusion of being set so deeply into his almost deathly pale face that they were almost like empty sockets.

"_You_," It- Cissnei mentally corrected herself- _He _said with what seemed to be irritated disinterest. "Tell me what you know of Hojo, _and _Sephiroth."

For the longest moment, there's utter silence; its tangible clasp on Cissnei's vocal chords akin to the sensation of strangulation. She couldn't find the apt response, shocked as she was by this man's advent appearance. Zack was pretty much just as speechless too, but she couldn't see anything of his expression from behind him. However, Zack was the first of the two to speak. And when he did, Cissnei couldn't have wanted anymore than in that moment to just _smack him for it_.

"Uh... We come in peace," he tried weakly, his voice cracked and muffled beneath his respirator.

The figure said nothing to this, blinking methodically as if every single twitch of unseen muscle was a deliberately calculated motion. He looked between the two, but Cissnei wasn't sure if he's either bored with them already or sizing them up as threats.

"I won't ask again," his words were formulated slowly, every breath spared as intended. He timbre was also deeper than expected of a person his size; especially since Cissnei realized he's a tad shorter than Zack. He could've been Tseng's equal in terms of weight and frame for all she knew.

Zack and Cissnei still couldn't quite find the words, but the former nonetheless kept the girl behind him. His breathing was deeper; almost rattling as Cissnei listened to it apprehensively. "Look, uh," Zack seemed to stir out of his mental funk, his expression set in grim lines from what little could be seen of his face. "We don't want any trouble-"

The stranger unceremoniously interrupted him, "I don't care what you want. I just want to know if what I heard you muttering really was who I thought it was."

"That depends on whose asking," Zack suddenly growled back, growing stupid braver with each creeping second that slunk by. He wouldn't hesitate to protect Cissnei; and that's a thought that deeply bothered the girl. That said, she tried to move out from behind him, but Zack's grip on her upper arm became apparent; hard.

_He almost died for a comatose vegetable like Cloud... what's to stop him from putting down his life for a lady friend?_

Cissnei couldn't help that random thought; and it prompted her to reach subtly for the hidden pistol she always kept in her suit. Its a weapon that _always _stays on your person; no matter what- and especially if you're still in uniform. Her shuriken was in her toat in the hall-way, so she'd have to settle for helping Zack with what most other Turks referred to as the pea-shooter- or the bean cracker if you're Reno.

The strange man shook his head, once; but then he seemed to let out a long huff. "Don't bother drawing your pistol, girl. I'm not interested in conflict," he said with more calm than what's expected, taking the two off-guard. Cissnei couldn't help her wince though; flabber-gasted as she was. She wondered how the other knew she had the weapon briefly. "-The names you spoke," he said in a steadily calmer tone, perhaps sensing their rising agitation. "Did you, or did you not just say Hojo or Sephiroth?"

Understanding erupted between them, Zack and Cissnei both turning and nodding to each other briefly. Zack drew himself to his fullest height while Cissnei struggled to relax; seeing as the specter seemed more interested in speaking than attacking them. _Thank Minerva, _she breathed.

"Yeah," Zack hesitantly confirmed, his shoulders keeping their squared position. "We did."

"You know them?" The caped man pressed.

Cissnei and Zack both raised brows at him. "Hojo's no friend of mine," the taller man stated with cold malice, surprising his smaller companion. He jabbed a sharp thumb at himself, his teeth likely bared under the respirator.

At this reply, the caped man's eyes flickered with something Cissnei couldn't possibly mistaken nor imagine: Age-old _ire_, among something else she couldn't see_. _It unnerved her at first, but the tension eased as the nameless crypt dweller looked up; his strange, shrouded eyes a faint glow in the dungeon dark. Truly, his hooded gaze was at stark odds against his pallored, inflection-less face.

"You too?" he asked in a different, albeit lower tone from before.

Zack tilted his head at him, folding his arms briefly, "Huh?"

So said he, "Your obvious contempt for Hojo... I presume its a personal vendetta?"

The ex-SOLDIER blinked again, his hesitation made apparent by his slow drawl, "You could say that... Why ask?"

"...I happened to be acquainted with Hojo's uncouth approach to what he calls his 'research'," he replied, seemingly at ease with the conversation suddenly. Cissnei wasn't sure if that's a good sign or not. The man nonetheless shook his head again, "He has a tendency to make people 'unwind' in a different, more invasive way: They change, and sometimes their link to him becomes easy to pick up on."

"Oh," The other went to scratch his head, but stopped mid-way through the gesture. "Well uh... If that's the case, then, I don't suppose you being in this creepy-ass basement so close to his ultra-freaky libra-tory has anything to do with how you knew that, right?"

The ex-SOLDIER's thoughtless frankness, observation and consequent guesswork seemed to surprise the red-eyed man; who turned over the scant information brought before him. His dark brows dipped a tad, but Cissnei wasn't sure what the heck's going on in his mind. This guy didn't emote much more than Tseng did; if not less. The only clues Cissnei was really getting from him was just his tone of voice or the occasional movement in his thin, but well shaped brow-line.

Nonetheless, she watched the man's reaction carefully; belatedly noticing what she thought was a flicker of understanding in his gaze. His sunken stare swept a fast, but subtle once-over of the taller man before him next, measuring the ex-SOLDIER's physical form. Somehow, Cissnei felt that the strange man may somehow be aware of Zack's condition; despite the usual bluster her friend's putting up now. She couldn't fathom how he'd know; especially since Zack had been healing well during the past week, but its a gut feeling she got. She briefly entertained the intrusive idea that its something he may even _smell_, but promptly put the ridiculous idea aside.

The caped man blinked carefully again, his head subtly inching to one side. He didn't answer the tentative query directly, but something within his profound silence was somehow answer enough. His expression seemed even _more _exhausted than before; his dark hair briefly fluttering in front of his eyes. "You could say that," he eventually relinquished, borrowing Zack's own words.

"Figures," Zack almost snarled. "It'd explain why ya been here so long-"

"Hm?" The man's next expression was reserved, but off in some way Cissnei couldn't identify.

As for Zack, his glaive was steadily regaining its earlier brightness as his mind stirred. The room wasn't so dark anymore at that moment. Nonetheless, the ex-SOLDIER changed tact as he clarified with, "I've seen you here before- five years ago to be exact. But I didn't wake you up." He shrugged, and then his crystal eyes landed on Cissnei. "To be honest," he continued in a lower tone. "-I've spent four of those years here myself, as one of Hojo's playthings. Hell, its kinda the whole reason why we're here actually- to find out what the fuck's going on with Cloud and me."

The other-worldly specter nodded in a rather sagely manner, his eyes somehow even more grim than before. The mention of another name didn't seem to surprise him; its as if he expected it really.

"Yunno," Zack suddenly entreated. "I gotta ask: couldn't you have escaped from this room on your own? I mean, how long have ya been down here anyways? This room was pretty locked up and all kinds of stuffy when we first came in. And the fact that you were here even five years back-"

The man pondered this one more carefully, his next words far more delicate than before for some reason. "Its not long enough," he stated in an undertone that merely mystified the two. "I could've left at any point, but chose not to," he said with the additional show of folding his strangely thin arms. One had a gold-plated gauntlet covering it, complete with metal claws. Cissnei saw a gun holster fleetingly show itself under his lazily fluttering cloak, hidden on his right thigh.

_He could've shot us dead anytime he wanted, _she quickly surmised, her throat going bone-dry. _Assuming its loaded and it even works- and with our luck, it probably is._

"Why?" Zack shrugged, shaking his head. He waved his free arm a certain way; showing the palm up in a small show of his confusion. He didn't react to the brief exposure of the man's weapon in any way; but his SOLDIER eyes didn't really miss much. If anything, his tone became warier next. "Why stay in this fucking cursed Hell-hole anyhow? I can't stand being here as it is," he added with what Cissnei saw passed as a shudder.

The stranger lifted his head some, his long nose almost aquiline in nature. His next blink was rather feline; slow and deliberate as it was. "To atone," he cryptically replied. "For what I've done- Or rather, what I didn't do."

"Huh?" Zack pressed, his expression steadily growing more shadowed itself.

The leather-clad stranger breathed out almost longingly, his eyes suddenly vanishing from sight in a shifting curtain of liquid pitch. He shook his head again, his voice containing more solemnity than ever breathed by any sane man in history. "I've bound myself here," he almost whispered, his voice akin to ashamed. "-Because of the loss of beloved one I've failed to protect. For someone I chose not to save."

Zack couldn't help that shocked flutter of his lids; as was Cissnei. Eventually, the ex-SOLDIER pressed, his tone measured, "Eh... Who? And whaddya mean, couldn't save?"

"Its... difficult to explain," he seemed to settle for saying instead. "Moreover, I see no benefit in saying more than that at this point- And I don't mean to sound cold, but you haven't said much of yourselves; nor spoken of your own connection to Sephiroth."

Zack boldly strode forward, seemingly forgetting the potential danger he may be in with his wayward methodologies. Granted, even if the stranger felt inclined to draw the hidden weapon and managed to let off some shots, chances were they wouldn't stop Zack immediately. Even if they're properly placed and well aimed, gun shots to the head hadn't exactly stopped Zack before. Slow him down and potentially kill him maybe, but not before he took the offender with him. That kind of determined survivability was the only reason why he's able to take the whole Shinra Army in the first place.

_Not to mention his shield materia, _she thought. _Which is the only reason why I'm still standing behind him at this point._

"Look, you can't be saying that kinda of stuff and not expecting a nosy busy-body like me _not _to ask. Although, you're absolutely right," he jabbed an almost judgemental finger at him as he said this, but it wasn't a sharp nor hostile motion. In fact, Zack slumped his shoulders and bared the hand not holding the burning glaive; trying to appear less enemy-like. He continued with, "I never said I _wouldn't_ tell ya about Sephiroth. However, I can't say I feel inclined to say more myself unless you clarify how _you _know 'im. As it were, I'd think Sephiroth woulda mentioned knowing a freaking vampire."

"...I'm not a vampire-"

Zack waved his free hand dismissively. "That's besides the point. See, if I had to tell you about what I know of 'im and Hojo first, I'd inclined to think you'd kill us after your curiosity is satisfied. This said, I'd like to actually get some answers in turn for once. That's not too much to ask, is it?"

The so-called not-vampire daintily settled his weight onto the rim of his chosen coffin; resting a gold-gauntlet covered arm onto a drawn up knee. His other arm supported his likely airy weight, his cape stopping its other-worldly flutter as if it could independently read his mind. Eventually, he replied easily with, "Fair enough."

"Wait- _Really?_" Zack jolted. "You're agreeing to this? Just like that?"

"Did you expect me to say otherwise?" The man returned in a flat drone, not unlike Tseng in some way.

Zack raised yet another pointer finger and paused, blinking rapidly. "Honestly, I half expected you to get angry and threaten to rip my insides out through my nostrils or kill us out-right. And even if you didn't do that, you saying something along the lines of 'None of your business' was also expected." He lowered the hand next, "Anytime I've ever tried asking for information nicely, its _never_ worked out."

The other let out a noise between a snort and a chuckle; a strange sound likely betraying either his amusement or sarcastic lack of one. "Obviously," he casually shrugged. "You have a funny way of 'asking'."

Zack scratched his head sheepishly, but then suddenly darted a glance at Cissnei. Both gave the other equal looks of shock and near-elation at this man's mild reply. The same epiphany bloomed between them, leaving the same conclusion in its wake: They weren't going to leave Nibelheim empty-handed after all.

Eagerly, her taller partner drew himself back up and calmly nodded. "Alrighty then," he agreed immediately, pumping a free hand at the hopeful, mutual response. He nodded to another passing thought and reignited his glaive fully, finding a brazier along the wall to use.

Cissnei knew he still had no intention of staying here long, but they might as well agree to whatever the unusual figure said while he felt generous. So, the ex-SOLDIER lit a random torch along the wall, snuffed the flames on his weapon, and sat with his back to the coffin he'd opened previously. They'd had to search through it after the talk.

Beside him, the girl had carefully watched her partner's movements and mimicked him; trying to finish reclaiming her still somewhat frazzled nerves. The whole time she'd been around this weird caped man before them though, Cissnei just couldn't shake the alien sensation of _wrongness _with him; despite his seemingly non-hostile nature. It wasn't an oppressive kind of wrongness really- like what you get with monsters or whatever, but its behavior felt more or less subtle in some way or another. Its there, but not threatening.

_Perhaps, a good thing to note, _Cissnei figured.

Once both parties were calmly at ease, Zack tried next, "So uh, can we start with your name? I mean, I actually don't wanna keep callin' ya 'stranger' or something-"

"...Vincent Valentine," the man returned rather formally after a brief pause. "And I'm also _not _a vampire," he emphasized as if to clarify any lingering dregs of Zack's remaining uncertainty and disbelief; assuming the latter's expression was anything to go by.

Cissnei blinked rapidly a few times, and then felt her mind wander; she could've swore she heard the name _Valentine _from somewhere before. Granted, she hadn't heard it in a while; and wasn't entirely sure of _where _she heard it per se.

As for newly named Vincent, he then asked in a measured drone, "And you? What is your name?" The pair blinked at this, wondering why he'd bother inquiring. Zack however said, "Garm" before Vincent soundly interrupted him with, "No. I meant your _real _name. Not the Face name."

"Oh," Zack dipped his head at this, his eyes guarded. "You know about those? Ah, okay. Its uh... Glaive."

Again, the other shook his head. Zack and Cissnei both blinked, confused by the strange request. "You haven't been at this whole Turk gig for very long, have you?" He casually pointed out.

Zack raised a pointer finger, flapped his lips soundlessly underneath that metal plate covering half of his likely stupefied expression, and then lowered it.

Vincent then told them more firmly, "I wish to know your _real _one: We both know secrecy doesn't suit you, and clearly holding back any information isn't your style. If anything, I believe you can stand to be less obvious about it. As it were, I've also given you my real name." His gauntlet covered arm gestured, "Vincent Valentine; A.K.A Tri-Barrel, of the Turks. Son of Dr. Grimoire Valentine; of Midgar."

_Wait... THE Dr. Valentine? _The girl suddenly realized. _And this guy's a former Turk too, on the side? _

Her wary eyes wandered back to the weapon he had stashed away, and then she briefly entertained the idea that this man may in fact be speaking the truth- given he wasn't inclined to lie to them simply for their again, it also explained his knowledge of the different names Turks use, alongside his reason for having a gun in the first place. She made an internal note to ask Tseng if a 'Tri-Barrel' was in the records the next time she saw him.

His deep stare nonetheless penetrated the pair; eyes easily sifting through their gaping windows as he continued to mentally disarm them. "Despite my former occupation, I'm no longer bound by the same regulations of it; not as I am. As for what'll be discussed here," His head inclined a tad, his intense gaze suddenly even more vivid. "The things we'll end up sharing is a truth that means exposing who and what our true natures are; as to what we loved or lost. And, it's here in the grave of all things whole and sacred where it'll stay," he assured.

_'As I am'-? ...Holy geez. He's more grim than Tseng, _Cissnei realized. _On another note, I don't think I've ever met anyone more serious than Sir before; if not just as._

"So, all you're essentially asking for is straight honesty?" Zack tilted his head at this.

When Vincent grunted an affirmative, Zack turned towards Cissnei with a raised brow. _He's waiting for my permission, _she noted as she studied his ocean eyes. The girl decidedly pondered the ramifications of telling this strange man what's essentially an abandoned identity, but she also didn't know enough of him to aptly make the decision. Nonetheless, the Turk knew that honesty was indeed the best policy here; as it seemed to entice the caped stranger. Moreover, if he truly was an ex-Turk and wasn't out to deceive them, then surely speaking rather openly with him wouldn't be so bad.

_But I still can't deny how strange this guy... feels. _Cissnei frowned at him, trying to get an accurate read on him. _Surely Zack feels the same way-? I don't know enough to say- and I don't think there's anything in my training that could prepare me for this. _

The girl was truly stuck; and she had no idea if the man would know if she lied to him should she try. As it were, he already seemed to have a read on Zack, so its safe to say at this point, he may have a bead on her too. He hadn't really said a word to her this whole conversation, but she didn't doubt that he had an eye on her the whole time. Reluctantly, she'd have to default to being open. This said, in a slow nod she gave her comrade the ok for the slight breach in regulation- _One time only _was evident in her stern expression.

Zack almost eagerly returned his attention to Vincent, his eyes suddenly _much _brighter than they've been in a long time. "Its Zack," he seemed to grin beneath his mask, happily supplying the reply in what's typical of his cheerful nature. "Zack Fair, of Gongaga. Ex-SOLDIER, first class- proud pupil and successor of Angeal Hewley."

The former Turk blinked, seemingly at a loss for the blunt force honesty Zack had quite readily supplied on the fly. His expression was as close to surprised as Cissnei could ever guess. Whatever the case, he mentally recovered after a few seconds, and then turned towards her instead.

"And you?" He said, his reserved stare beholding a certain quality the girl couldn't quite pin down. "Were you anyone before you became Cissnei?"

_What a weird way to ask, _the girl squinted. _His speech is also so formal too. How old is this guy exactly? On the side... _Cissnei put on her most vacant mask, hoping to wipe her face clear of any of her current emotions. _Apparently he's already figured out that I was raised inside Shinra. How the heck did he deduct that from not speaking a word to me?_

_...He may just be a Turk indeed. _

Zack blinked dumbly at the baffling nature of the query himself, his eyes suddenly locking onto the girl beside him. He couldn't have been even _more _interested than he was at that moment. The girl wound up wondering if he was realizing the same thing.

"...Cissnei; A.K.A, Shuriken, of the Turks," She evenly told Vincent, pointedly ignoring Zack's deeply intense scrutiny. "I was no one before the Turks, nor shall I ever be more or less than what they need of me now," she proclaimed with absolute finality.

"'No one'?" he pressed.

When she merely lifted her chin in answer, no other forth-coming, the crypt dweller seemed to take the answer for what it is. Vincent suddenly dipped his head mute understanding at that; comprehension fully dawning within his sullen gaze. His next blink was methodical, while Zack's expression shifted to positively _baffled_.

_I wonder how long it'll take for Zack to fully understand what that statement even meant, _Cissnei thought on a side-ways note.

"Alright then," continued the former Turk. His crimson stare landed back onto Zack solely, "Now that that's out of the way, I suppose you want me to start us off?"

Zack nodded, his eyes an avid conflagration of burning excitement. He did pass Cissnei a hard glance in passing however, and the girl somehow knew she'd wind up in an interrogation later on. A heart-to-heart was something she inwardly felt was forthcoming, after they've left this place far behind.

In the meantime, Zack returned his own neon-tinted gaze back to Vincent. "Please?" he entreated, his respirator plate doing nothing to mask the question in his voice. He then hurriedly added, "I could add to the end of your story with what little I know of Sephiroth as I know him- based off what he told me himself. And maybe we can see if we can connect the two sides together."

The other, older man made another noise resembling an approving harrumph, his eyes suddenly down-cast. "Very well," he sighed while willingly showing his exhaustion, oddly enough. "However, I need to have an understanding of the time estimate; how old is Sephiroth exactly?"

The duo couldn't help their confused reactions; all the while Zack struggled to recall the age in question. When he couldn't say, Cissnei said with evident hesitation, "Twenty-seven," wondering why in all the world he needed to open up their little sharing session with a query like that.

"Hm. Then we'll start with roughly thirty years ago," Vincent nodded, beginning in earnest.

* * *

~777~

Cloud couldn't help his ponderous quandary, tired as he was.

The whole of AVALANCHE managed to find themselves in quite the weirdest variety of places this week: Meandering between grassy plateaus, mountainous death-traps, broken down towns, and desert snares not _moments_ after dealing with the over-crowded Amusement park- the Golden Saucer, and its eccentric owner Dio as an added bonus. And all this excitement in a span of just a single week.

On the side, they managed to pick up a furry interloper- whose loud mouth was just enough to quell Yuffie's more grating one once she felt prompted to voice her numerous complaints. Now, Cloud wouldn't complain about it; seeing as Yuffie does have a fantastic tendency to be as pointedly clear about her views as possible, and this new guy couldn't care any less for it than Cloud himself. However, this so-called interloper is somehow _even more _irritating in his own way. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but that's how Cloud felt about good ol' Cait Sith.

Whatever the case, Cloud wasn't concerned about this weird talking cat and his untraceable accent and stupid bouts of yelling over Yuffie. He wasn't even concerned about Sephiroth's mysterious destination and Shinra's movements either for the moment: If anything, his mind kept wandering to the idiotic flurry of questions he had regarding this _gigantic fucking hole _he had sitting right smack dab between Nibelheim's purge and now.

He never breathed a word of it to anyone; not even to Tifa, who claimed even she couldn't remember much of Nibelheim's destruction. But then again, at least she remembered what happened to her after waking up in her master's care only days after the event. She did relent to Cloud that, yes, she at least recalled the last five years in easy detail; starting with meeting with Barret and joining AVALANCHE some time back. But Cloud? No such luck: He hadn't a single _whiff _of a memory to call upon.

He didn't usually consider it; but as of recently, he couldn't help feeling bothered by this vacant space in his noggin. Its one of those worries that really came to you in the dead of night; right as you're about to finally fall asleep but it clashes against your awareness like one of Midgar's reactors going off- thus the reason why Cloud was sitting here now, at nearly two or so in the morning, a ways off from the others.

Tonight, the group managed to find a decent hotel to stay in; as a token of thanks from Dio who gave them a car and funds to work with. Dio may have been a pain in the ass to deal with back at the Golden Saucer, but in small ways the meeting was well worth it. The whole group managed to eat well tonight, and get separate beds for once. The girls had told Cloud that one or two may end up sharing a bed every time they've ever come upon a hotel. Now, despite this complaint, at least the girls actually _liked _each other:

Cloud and _Barret _however...

Every time they got a room, Cloud and Barret immediately took two separate beds and didn't say a word to the other. And if they did, they usually ended up in a pissing contest that left the men irritable and bitter the next day. Red thankfully never asked for one; seeing as he seemed comfortable plopping his crimson ass wherever he damn well pleased. And despite the presence of Cait Sith on the side, the mechanical feline never minded sharing a space with Red too. Or he'd find some chair to curl up in and go into what Cloud figured was 'sleep mode' until the moment everyone else got up.

For the moment, Cloud was staring out the balcony of his and Barret's room on the sixth floor; pointedly ignoring the blundering bear of a man and his sonorous snores. Thankfully Barret was a sound sleeper, so he didn't budge whenever Cloud clumsily made his way across a dark room and opened the glass sliding door. He could say he's 'contentedly' checking out the view of vast greens and blues and blacks that were the grasslands and distant river, but it couldn't be further from the truth.

He wasn't content at all.

Not for the first time, Cloud dropped his head into his folded arms; leaning the majority of his weight against the balcony railing. He groaned as loudly as he could; seeing as the glass door behind him was all the way shut. Moments like these were truly one of the rare times he could freely uncheck himself and sigh without pissing somebody off (namely Barret) or invoking his friends' curiosity.

"Can't sleep?"

Cloud actually almost yelped; startled out of his wits as he darted his head all around to find the lilting voice. He blinked stupidly and then leaned forward; seeing just past the firmly anchored blind the separated his balcony from his neighbors': Said neighbors being the girls.

"Oh my _fuck_... Aerith? Z'at you?"

When he heard an answering giggle that rung like chimes, it certainly confirmed his suspicion. "Yeah," she leaned forward herself, resting her more slight mass against the rail as Cloud did. "It's me. I'd thought you'd be asleep by now?"

"I can say the same for you," he snorted, but not in an unfriendly way.

Aerith's heart-shaped face was a welcoming sight in all honesty: At this point, Cloud's stupid mind had been running about in redundant circles that were effectively driving away any semblance of sleep. He'd been awake for well over a day, and the lack of rest was fraying at his nerves.

As for the Cetra beside him, she rested her weight against the wall between them; keeping her ivy arms rested on the railing. "I couldn't really sleep either," she began, her warming voice lowering despite their roommates being unable to hear. "I've kinda been a little... troubled, really."

Cloud rested his back against the blind too, arresting his eyes on the slim crescent moon. "What kinda trouble? Something I can do?"

"Its a... well, now that I think about it-" Cloud could picture her putting a thin, dexterous digit to her lips. "Maybe you _can_."

"How? Whatsit about?" he tried, his tenor mild-sounding.

Aerith hummed, "Well, if I had to be frank, its actually about Tifa- I've been a little worried about her..." Her demure tone grew softer still, "-The thing is... I've been trying to talk to her during the last few days whenever we stop for the night. But whenever I go to sit down with her and start asking why she's so down, she usually deflects it or says she's tired. Ever since we left the Costa Del Sol, haven't you noticed she's been a little down?"

Cloud's eyes flickered, "I uh... not so much more than usual. I only figured she'd been apprehensive 'cuz we've been doing a lotta walkin' and fighting. Or maybe she misses Marlene- she seemed really close to her."

"Hm, I guess that's true, but my gut says something else has been on her mind lately." Aerith sighed, "Is she always this reticent? She never really opens up a whole lot."

The blond couldn't help his own sigh in return, "She's never really been 'open' to begin with. Tifa's not someone whose secretive so much as... what's the word? Eh... independent maybe."

"Why say that?"

At this, the man couldn't help his small smile, "Tifa's always been that way- Its why she learned how to fight. A long time ago, she once expressed an interest in getting rescued at least once, if you can believe it. However, despite this damsel-in-distress thing, she went and got herself trained by one of this word's most selective and unique martial artists." Cloud's smile grew in both mirth and bitterness; something he's inwardly glad Aerith didn't see. "She learned to take care of herself pretty early on; cooking, fighting, and even helping raise Marlene before I ran into her in Midgar. She's never really needed anyone: If anything, people need her."

"Hm. Well... Maybe not physically," Aerith murmured.

"Huh?"

The girl didn't respond immediately; leaving Cloud to wonder what's going through her mind. Eventually, she said, "Tifa may not need anyone physically speaking, but now I can't help thinking its something she needs _emotionally_. She's not clingy, but she's not very out-going either. Does she not have any other significant relationships at the moment? Like, besides Marlene and us."

"Not that I know of," Cloud replied with evident confusion. _Where the heck is she going with this?_

"Okay then," Aerith's ginger voice brightened up. "Have you ever seen her confide in anyone?" When Cloud replied in the negative yet again, she then straight up asked, "Alright, then how'd you explain your relationship with Tifa? I mean, besides being friends."

"I- wait. What?" Cloud jerked and darted a glance at the blind, although he still didn't quite see her. "Where the heck did _that _come from?"

"Humor me," she replied mystically. "How'd you describe your friendship with her in detail?"

Cloud smacked his lips, stewing on that a little longer than he liked. "Uh... How the heck d'ya expect me to answer that? You want me to say we're close, or close _close_?"

Aerith was heard sighing exasperatedly. Cloud wondered why that's the case until she elaborated, "That's not what I meant. Have you guys like ever, I dunno, hung out outside of doing AVALANCHE related things? Talked heart to heart? Share any thoughts or troubles that interested the other? You know, like actual friends?"

"Uh... Not a lot, no." Cloud settled again, still wondering where this girl's abstract thoughts were straying. The last time he recalled having a simple one-on-one convo with the martial artist was before the Sector Seven disaster; and Tifa had indeed expressed some feelings that Cloud found a little concerning at that time. But ever since then, the two haven't been allowed to simply sit and talk it out; with Tifa growing ever more reclusive with each day since.

_We haven't had a lot of chances or time, _he noted. _We've been on the move a whole lot since then, trying to avoid Shinra._

In the meantime, Aerith continued with what sounded like a fatigued tone; surprising Cloud further. "Well, Dilly-Dally Shilly-shally," she said as if its the answer to their problem.

"Huh-?"

"-I meant that maybe _you _could try talking to her," she finally clarified. "I haven't had much luck in doing so, but now I'm starting to think that I might not the right person for it."

The man blinked, and then passed the shifting figure behind the blinds another glance she didn't quite catch, "Ya think so?"

"I haven't known her for as long as you did," she mused. "I figure that, if there's really anything really bogging her down, a long-time friend is liable to be more successful than a recent, shorter-term acquaintance whose she's slowly warming up to."

"I thought Tifa liked you?"

"I'm not saying she _doesn't_," Aerith went on, her tone patient but plainly exhausted. "But you get my point: try offering to go get a drink with her or something. See what's bothering her. Maybe after that, she'll be more liable to open to everyone else in the process." He could just hear the smile in her voice when she added next, "A girl likes nothing more than having her own personal confidant in her life; that being a trusted friend or otherwise. I have a good listening ear myself whenever I need it."

"Wait, really? Who is it?"

She hummed her confirmation, "I'd like to keep that to myself for now, if you don't mind. Whatever the case, I think its fair to say everybody needs that one secret-keeper in their life. Now that I think about it-" Aerith was heard shuffling about, her night-gown whispering in the faint breeze. "I don't think I ever seen you talk to anyone in particular; like, as in confiding in anybody. Don't you have that one ear you go to when you need to go clear your thoughts?"

Cloud harrumphed, but not impolitely. "I'm fine," he casually brushed off. "I don't go around muttering my troubles when everybody else has their own. 'Sides, staying focused on jobs helps keep me distracted."

"Is that why you're awake at this hour?" Aerith uncertainly replied.

At the strangely bold statement, Cloud batted an eye and threw yet another cursory look over his shoulder; and this time, Aerith seemed to notice it.

"I'm sorry," she hung her head; if her silhouette was anything to go by. "That was... I didn't mean to-"

"Its okay," Cloud went to reassure her. "You're actually right, ya know."

"Hm?"

The blond hung his head, realizing that this conversation; and Aerith's point, truly were hitting home. He next smirk was the bitter kind, his mind finally grasping the convo. _Way to call you out on your shit, huh? _He heaved another heavy sigh next, "I think, maybe I'll take your advice on that. Taking Tifa for a drink may help us both."

"Really?" her voice lightened.

"Yeah. It really doesn't sound like a bad idea, the more I think about it," Cloud nodded. "Minerva knows Tifa could do with a decent pick-me-up. With the kinda shit we've been through recently, I've never seen her unwind once; especially since she hasn't had a decent chance to vent since that whole-"

Cloud paused, knowing that Sector Seven truly was a sore subject all-in-all. In hind-sight, he felt silly that he hadn't thought to come out of his own shell and go ask Tifa how _she's _felt lately. He'd been so wrapped up in his own mind-numbing bubble regarding his memory loss, he hadn't really stopped to consider the one other person who could be feeling as down he was. He still didn't want to tell Tifa his troubles; but if even she had some burdens to vent, then maybe the two of them could do for a decent outing the next time they stopped at good town.

Whatever the case, his trailing off was still enough for Aerith to understand the unvoiced thoughts. She knew he was about to bring up the whole Sector Seven tragedy, but she felt no inclination to press him to continue. Aerith merely waited until Cloud finished gathering his thoughts before she felt the need to say anything more.

"Cloud, can I ask you something else instead?" her tone, usually a pleasant, sacral flow of clarity was suddenly weighty. It baffled the man, drawing him out of his introspective burrowing.

"Yeah?"

"I... I couldn't help wondering," Aerith timidly pressed, her gaze focused on everything else except the man beside her. "I uh... I know its a _bit _off-topic, but I've been meaning to ask you for a while now-"

Cloud let out a minuscule chuckle, trying to breathe some confidence back into the usually wayward woman. "I'm not gonna bite your head off, yunno. If ya got something you wanna vent, you can tell me too."

"I know," Aerith's tone was a touch more assured here. "Its just, I never really felt like the timing was right. Or maybe I was just being a little worried about the answer."

At this, Cloud couldn't help his increasing confusion; deciding to remain silent so to let the girl continue voicing her thoughts. Aerith was usually pretty frank; not like Tifa or Yuffie, but honest. Whenever she had a question to ask, she usually just went for it with no evident qualms. However, to see her bumbling over whatever this little query was, he couldn't help his own inward hesitation.

"You know you can tell me," Cloud tried to encourage when he still heard no question forthcoming. "Weren't you just going on about confiding in others? I promise you I won't judge."

"Its not that," he saw her head slump. "Its- Its actually about your sword-"

"Huh?" _Well that's outta the blue._

Aerith's figure was seen rising from its sitting position from beyond the green blinds, her hands wandering to the other in a show of her discomfort. "I uh- I just wanted to ask where you got the Buster sword," she finally inquired. "I mean, I know it must sound so silly to you, but wasn't that sword custom made or something?"

"Yeah... But why're ya so worried about that?" Cloud had to ask, a little flabber-gasted by the strange nature of her shift in topic.

Aerith was silent for a real long time here, likely fidgeting beyond his clear field of view. Her hands remained stationary around her breast; most likely tugging and pulling at the other's digits. "My boyfriend," she finally relented, in the smallest voice he's ever heard her use. "He uh... he had a sword like that- _Just _like it, actually."

"The Buster sword's unique," Cloud assuredly imputed, not knowing where the Hell the snappy reply came from. He did turn over her strange comment, suddenly finding it very troubling. "I've never known anyone else to have it," he continued smoothly. "Its too heavy for most anyone else to use effectively as far as I know."

_Wait... How do I know that? Didn't I get this in SOLDIER?_

"I-I know... I mean, I already knew-?" Aerith's voice continued to shrink. She tittered on in a nervous mutter, "I meant that he- That's to say my boyfriend- He said the same thing about it. He's the only person I've ever heard of to own anything _remotely _like it. He also said most typical SOLDIER are usually given thin long-swords for their gear; but custom weapons like the Buster sword weren't out of the question. But to see two of the same kinda weapon like it- especially since its custom-"

She let the comment hang there, the statement instilling within the pair the strangest kind of heaviness Cloud has never really recalled ever having in a conversation with her. Nonetheless, he tried to shrug it off with, "Maybe we just have the same taste in blades."

"Mm-mm," she shook her head beyond his view, her unbound hair fluttering beyond the blinds. "He said it was given to him by his late mentor in SOLDIER. Its his teacher's."

Cloud folded his arms, suddenly feeling an odd twist of his internal organs. He 'Ah'd' at the statement, deciding to move the conversation forward. "Yunno, I think I remember you mentioning him before," Cloud frowned. "Its back at the Sector Six park, yeah?"

He could almost hear the girl rattling her skull there, "Yeah. The same."

"What's his name again? I don't think you've actually told me," the blond warrior went on. "And did this guy actually use the name 'Buster sword' specifically?"

"He did," she affirmed, much to Cloud's sudden, chilly unease.

"And the name?"

Aerith's voice lowered yet more, but still Cloud caught her next reply with the expected ease. "Zack," she said. "Zack Fair."

_Why does that sound familiar?_

Cloud's gut knotted up rather violently without his knowing it; the sensation akin to getting socked in the gut by Sephiroth himself. His mouth went bone-dry next; his throat leaping about in its suddenly advent struggle to swallow. His mind began to spin and tilt wildly on its axis; a high-pitch ringing starting up somewhere in his ear-drums.

"Z-Zack?" He garbled, feeling choked up for gods no explainable reason.

"Yeah?" Aerith heard the wounded quality in his tone however, and then the girl was seen leaning against the rails just to see past the blind. Her head peeked around it, her pretty, cherry-russet hair in an unnoticed, wavy mane around her face. "Did you know him at all?"

_I do._

"I d-don't-?" He almost stuttered, suddenly feeling nauseated by his own reply.

_I do._

_I do know him._

The ringing was suddenly fever-pitch; a hot wash of sickly fire wrapping its weirdly coagulating, filthy, smothering hold around his entire body like being dunked in molten lead. His skin suddenly felt clammy with sweat; his innards clenching in hot, inexplicable agony.

"Cloud," Aerith's voice was suddenly all concern, her fae-eyes suddenly wider. "Great Gaia, Cloud! You look _awful_! Do you want me to get Tifa-?"

_I __**knew **__him._

Cloud stopped hearing the rest of her words; suddenly leaping to his feet in a staggering sway of flailing limbs. He twisted about on the ball of his heel and gripped the iron bars; his eyes locked onto some focal point on the ground six a whole stories below. That grating ringing grew in terrible frequency; drowning out any other potential sound the girl could've been making right next to him.

Suddenly, he stopped seeing her: He didn't notice her reaching hands snagging and bracing his bare shoulder from around that stupid blind; pushing against his deadening weight as it incrementally inched over the guard rail. Cloud couldn't hear her increasingly fervent cry; not over the gyrating influx of drowned sensations being dunked and cleansed of their sense. He didn't even notice the worrying atrophy of his strength as it viciously escaped him in a great deluge. All he knew in that moment was that horrible ringing; gods-thrice damned pain in guts and liquefied brain; and the vague vertigo that swept his stance right out from underneath him-

And then he was falling.

* * *

~777~

When Vincent finally finished his unusual story, Zack had felt the embarrassing need to _cry like a pissy baby _for him.

The younger man simply couldn't wrap his mind around it at first; but in the silence that followed within the crypt, it all sank in like the weight of the entire world. Zack hung his head in reverence, steadily absorbing all that it carried. He felt Cissnei's eyes upon him, and he could tell she was finding his reticence quite uncharacteristic.

Today, Zack's behavior in general had been odd, but its because he'd wondered about the man in the coffin. Its true though; Zack had desperately _wanted_ to search this room for any semblance of the truth; and yes, his reasons for exploring this off-limits chamber had been legitimate. However, another smaller, more disturbed part of him wondered about waking the man, and finding out if he'd been an unwilling, catatonic lab rat for Hojo too. Zack had quite a few reasons to be here in fact.

But now, listening to this clearly undead man's terrible tale regarding a job gone _**VERY **_wrong, Zack couldn't help wondering about the other poor souls that could've survived Nibelheim's purge winding up here as well. Its bad enough Cloud and himself were included into this equation; but whose to say the local photographer could've been brought down here too? Or Tifa's _dad _for all he knew? The townspeople and their corpses; transformed into the many different kinds of experimental lab materials Hojo could've ever desired in that time- and made into twisted amalgamations like poor Vince here.

_That sick bastard._

And gods know how many other, nameless, forgotten Turks could've wound up like Vincent; who died on their jobs trying to speak out against the crimes Shinra's committed throughout the years. Zack could easily see why Tseng was rightfully concerned for his fellows; and why he gave them the materia he did. He also knew why Cissnei had been reluctant to come into this room too; and it could've very well gotten her killed if she'd been found out by a creep like Hojo. The girl could've disappeared; wiped from the records as easily as one wipes a squashed bug from memory- as it seemed to be the case with Vincent.

All this became obvious to the man; and the more he knew, the more his hatred for Shinra grew. Zack wasn't a man whose prone to savage bouts of rage by nature, usually feeling pretty shitty for potentially dragging people like Cissnei into a dangerous situation doing what they did. But weirdly enough in that moment, he was more or less seeing eye-to-eye with a madman like freaking _Sephiroth _for crying out loud. Within him, the long since buried, microscopic, hardened kernel of animistic rage seered into life: Like an unchecked inferno; rising to near monstrous heights as it enveloped the regions of his heart where forgiveness lie.

Angeal and Genesis' plights were suddenly understandable; and the man finally understood why Sephiroth made the decision to quit Shinra once their last job was done. He understood why AVALANCHE- as questionable as they can be, behaved the way they did. All these people had one thing in common, and its their shared belief in taking Shinra down.

_"Zack. Join my battle."_

Angeal's stern voice starkly brought the ex-SOLDIER back to the past several years back, when the main Shinra building had been under attack. The larger man proudly stood beside his pupil, swung the Buster Sword in righteous proclamation, and told him this:

_"Our enemy is all that creates suffering," _he'd said.

And then he flew Zack to the building, where the two fought side-by-side, even though Angeal was a fugitive at the time. Shinra was his _enemy_, and yet he saw fit to assist Zack even though it meant helping the greatest source of his pain. The big man stood taller than any statue likeness of any famous Archangels Zack could've seen throughout his whole life; greater than any legendary hero from _Loveless_' supposedly amazing epics-

And yet look what Shinra did to him at the end.

Zack was, at this point, so infuriated with these truths that he was drawn to his feet in god-tier level fury. He couldn't help his rapid breathing or vigorous shaking; and he had no way of knowing where this horrifying, venomous anger was pouring in from. All he knew was that he _had to get some god-damn air_. He didn't want the stupid Shinra-made respirator, just fresh, clean, normal, country _AIR._

And then that anger seeped away without warning, with nausea easily pooling and filling into its place. Exhaustion devoured his senses; his mind trapped in a thickening quagmire. Zack became light-headed; feeling a throbbing build where there hadn't been none before. This strange, terrifying shift in mood and fatigue took the man off-guard; prompting him to flutter his eyes and brace a hand to his slumping head.

And then that's when the ringing happened.

"Zack?" Cissnei's voice rose up from somewhere beside him; her tone cautious. Her maple eyes flickered as she watched sweat suddenly erupt on his temple, her body already tensed.

He didn't answer; closing his eyes as he tried to fight the oncoming migraine as it built where the ringing began. His breathing grew heavy; labored. It beheld an erratic pattern that didn't hold for long.

Cissnei was on her feet in a flash, staying knelt next to him with a hand on his back. "Zack? Can you answer me?"

Vincent gave the ex-SOLDIER a heavy-lidded once-over; his incredibly rich, blood-stain colored eyes arrested on his steadily slouching self.

Just then, Zack huffed and frantically struggled to his feet like a drunk, one-legged chocobo; his knees weak with pins and needles. The ringing increased its fervor; suddenly robbing Zack of any moisture in his mouth. Breathing became more than a chore at this point; his lungs decidedly quitting their autonomic function. He forced himself to _breathe_; mentally willing his body to yield to his weakened command.

And when that horrid, wordless realization set in that he couldn't take in a single, willful gulp of air out of his own volition; the _fear _came with it.

That grating ringing grew to its highest octave; robbing the man of any other sense but the crushing sensation of his lungs simply giving out on him. The noise completely drowned out the sounds of the people around him; his tongue thick and metallic in his mouth. His legs lost their feeble ground; bringing the ex-SOLDIER back down to his knees with his chest heaving increasingly shallowly.

"He can't breathe," Vincent hissed.

"FUCK!" Cissnei was already up and darting frantic glances between her companion and the closed door. "Vincent, Zack's respirator pack in the library down the hall. Can you-?"

Already, the red-eyed man was at the door and gone before the girl could finish. Cissnei nonetheless diverted her attention onto her gasping friend, laying him onto the floor with care and proceeding to remove his respirator plate and more confining of his clothes.

As for Zack, he remained ignorant of these happenings; a furious storm of pain gripping his trunk and stealing away the rest of his control over his weakening diaphragm. The ringing continued its brutalized assault of every sense he had; sight, taste, touch and all. Everything became too dark; too hot; too loud in his frenzied state. And when his heavy chest finally gave out all of the puttering dregs of energy he had left, he became still.

Very still.


	9. The Eighth's Absolution

_**Anyone excited about the upcoming remake and update details? Supposedly its going to feature the Turks and other members of Shinra! I can't wait to see it.**_

_**Anyways, I hope to release the next chapter soon. I'm already half-way done with it. Hang in there readers!**_

* * *

~777~

He'd been here before, not so long ago.

Zack dimly inched his head, his eyes taking in the otherwise featureless void all around him: The entire world was a mirror of itself; the sky and ground as ceaseless as an unchanging, featureless ocean set in uniform glass. Cumulus and cumulonimbus clouds twisted and churned together; some reflecting an eerie iridescence that projected an onslaught of color gradients sure to awe the prone man. Sapphires of various schemes were the simple backdrop; a vague water-color splash of light and dark twisting together at inconsistent intervals.

The 'ground' he was lying on was still-water; but it possessed no discernible depth nor did it behave as it should. Its as solid as being set on actual glass; or really flat, rain-slick, rocky ground polished into perfect uniformity. There's nothing else tangible beneath its shimmering surface; existing only to be a relatively motionless mirror for the sky above. And as Zack looked around, he noted indeed that this 'sea' blended perfectly into the horizon; where the infinite sky appeared seamless and unbroken as far as the eye can see. It enveloped him in a wide womb of white, blue, and random specks of dark.

The only thing disturbing the realm and its waters were the feathers falling all around him; daintily descending as misting rain and snow does in a whirling zephyr. Their colors however were never constant; taking on various shades of ivory and silver in every twist of the light occasion, some seem to melt into darker shades; akin to inky ebony bleeding across Wutian rice paper. He didn't know why, but he somehow felt that the weird blotches of darkness didn't belong.

He got up, but never fully onto his feet. He merely sat there with his arms propped up on his knees, staring vacantly around the vast and unending realm. When he looked up, he found himself searching for a certain seraph in particular; half expecting to hear his mentor's austere voice call down to him from the occasional break in the clouds. No such summoning beckoned, but the silence wasn't so bad either- perhaps a good sign in some ways.

_Those wings._

Zack's gaze lowered to the region between his booted feet, his heart suddenly strangely heavy. His wanderings caught upon the snag of recollection, his mind resting on its laurels.

_I want them too. _

The water's refracted rippling distorted his mirror parody; the sullen hunched-over figure beneath him equally as resigned. The counter-part shared his despondent gaze, the stark blues as clear as a cloudless day. It's appearance however possessed more distinction than the rest of the swirling outline, and its an observation that both baffled and fascinated Zack. Nonetheless, he kept his gaze arrested on the specter; keeping its own stare in turn.

_...And I still do._

The next thing he knew, a sigh freely escaped him without his notice; his eyes shutting briefly in wonderment of his coming to be here. He didn't really clearly recall the incident, but some semblance of wordless understanding bloomed forth; the memory foggy but there: His body had betrayed him, even despite his gradual healing. Weakness shattered the fragile, renewed strength he'd barely gained back; a leech sapping away the very force within his body that connected him to the life-stream- the same force that flows within every soul of their world.

What it left behind was a hollowed sense of knowing; and Zack couldn't muster the gumption to feel anything of it. Not fear, nor anger, helplessness nor sadness- just acceptance at the fact that perhaps he could finally join the planet. And it had been for that moment, to appear here in a world he visited only once when he suffered so, had thoroughly convinced him that its finally his _time_. Its no wonder he'd half-expected to hear Angeal upon awaking here.

_So I'm not dead, yet_, he realized as he sat alone in this vacant in-between. _But I came damn near close._

Something was keeping him anchored to life; and he had a vague suspicion of what. It could be one or many somethings on that note; and Zack knew that any one of his many guesses could potentially be correct, if not all: Not that he wanted to address them; as the list was more extensive than originally perceived. _And that's just fine_, he figured. Death or life alike had a place for him; and he'd face both with open arms, should it happen. But for today, it didn't seem quite the time yet to let go of his many motivations.

He watched his shuddering shadow beneath him heave; its crystaline eyes slamming shut in bereaved agony. The arms lifted and entwined in its spiked locks; the darkened figure bowing over in twitching sighs and huffs- all _independent _of Zack's own will. The image confused him, merely peaking his intrigue slightly. He didn't find it so weird, oddly enough; merely figuring its reacting to his calm rejection of Death's invitation.

_Sorry buddy_, he internally assured. _But not today._

The figure bunched over more, its chest shuddering. Zack suddenly developed the unusual desire to console the weirdly pathetic sight, lifting one hand without consciously realizing it and touching the surface of the watery mirror. He knew he wouldn't be able to tangibly reach it per se, but it didn't stop him from trying. But when his gloved hand met the surface, it cleared like morning fog over a vast valley dissipating in noon sun.

And revealed a head of not spiked black hair, but sun-kissed _blond_.

Zack couldn't help his reflexive gag; not knowing that breath had been coming to him so easily this whole time. But as he continued to watch the figure curl into a defensive ball, his breath once again deserted him. He suddenly pitched forward and sat on all fours, sluggish mind racing back to full tilt.

His shadow was no shadow: Cloud was indeed somehow _under _this other-worldly water, his body feebly writhing in place as if he's in great pain. His image however was despairingly poor in terms of shape; shifting and contorting with every ripple of water Zack disturbed. The only clear projection of himself Zack had been able to make out was his rueful mako eyes; flickering into view the times Cloud cracked them open.

Zack couldn't hear his weeping; but he _felt _it. It tore its way into his very core; every bit as influential and weighty as if he's hearing at ten times the normal volume. He watched flashes of the blond's teeth blip into sight and disappear again; Cloud seemingly trying his best to stifle whatever ailed him. His hands busily wrung and twisted in his locks; pulling and yanking for all he's worth.

_His mind. The pain is in his mind._

He didn't know where the thought came from, but it came unbidden and rung pristinely. Compelled to reply to this new danger; Zack was already determinedly trying to reach out to his friend; hoping to pull him close so he could chase away his demons. He swished and swirled the water to no avail; Cloud merely flickered tantalizingly in and out of sight with each movement. Zack had to sit perfectly still to see him at all at this point; not really noticing the subtle change his world view was undergoing until it became too large to ignore.

He looked around again, not knowing what had indeed drawn up his hardened gaze. His eyes however did catch the roving blooms of pitch; blackness bleeding forth from every newly fallen ebony feather. The plumes dissolved as it touched sacral waters; an oily taint that choked and eroded as they fell in increasing volume. Zack suddenly stood up, finally noticing the unusual lack of white and silver ones and feeling an innate sense of danger creep into being at that.

_**Its coming.**_

The world silently caved in on itself; an infinite oblivion devouring the other in a soundless duel to eclipse it in an shroud of hungry poison. Black ate the white; blue, and the line between sky and sea themselves. The mad corruption knew no distinction; knew no end as it trampled and smothered every distinguished shape, object, or lack of thereof. It marched towards Zack and his blond companion at an increasingly vigorous pace; bringing with it a primordial sense of absolute doom unlike any other.

The danger itself was something else _entirely_; it felt omniscient, _sentient_. It raced around the pair unseen in the storm of wicked pitch; a devourer of worlds with frothing jaws and unsated appetites nipping at its prey's heels. Eagerly it urged the avaricious blackness on; knowing that when its toxic borders met their idle reflections, it would take them into itself with no hope of return.

Zack's hairs stood on end, but he refused to run. He _could _indeed run if he so desired, but he knew the cosmic thing would catch him eventually. He saw no point in resisting it otherwise. Nonetheless, the fear spiked his legs with fervent energy; his heart thrumming in war song resonance. And yet, still he placidly remained where he stood in a vain effort to thwart the rampant world-eater. He stayed atop Cloud's image; loyally guarding the intangible, weeping blond as faithfully as a stalwart dog protecting its most beloved owner's grave.

_Men don't cry for themselves, _he remembered as the raging emptiness closed in.

Angeal had stood in front of him in his weakest moments; bracing his shoulders and muttering assurance in times past. In others, he'd stood taller than any epic hero and defended Zack from the flurry of enemies besieging them. He's stamped meaning into places where there wasn't none; made facts where there's lies. He'd taught the unwilling and impatient Zack what to do and what not to do in situations at their most hopeless; unintentionally defining what makes or breaks a true hero.

_They cry for others, _he'd said once in one of his first ever lessons to Zack.

Zack braced his coiling legs; the muscle bunching within his thighs in grim expectation of the horror awaiting him. His heart slammed iron walls around his emotions; his cryogenic stare reflecting his protected core. He had no weapon; but nonetheless readied himself as his body rigidly took on a parallel of his armed stance.

"They not only cry for them," Zack muttered to himself. "But they fight for them too."

The invisible devourer blanketed the remaining world; the prowling shadows viciously clasping both the figure standing firm against it; and the weakened one beneath.

* * *

~777~

Fear was ultimately what snapped his eyes open; the act banishing the last dregs of the nightmare's all encompassing trap.

Zack blinked dazedly a few times, feeling the crummy grit crusting around his eyes and gluing the corners shut. His chest hurt, like, _a lot_\- but at least he's actually breathing normally for once. His body stank righteously of his sweat too; but it didn't over-whelm the dank scent of the moldy room he found himself in.

Despite feeling the need to simply stay lying down, he nonetheless shot straight up and lifted the itchy, quilted blanket off in a flurry of thoughtless motion. His legs planted themselves on the floor, the cold hard-wood a decent anchor for his reeling mind. His toes curled and unclenched a few times, the man belatedly noticing his lack of foot-wear and general shirtlessness. Tightening his hold on the sides of the ancient bed, he quickly tried to recognize the room. And when he finally did remember it, he couldn't help his following groan.

_Aw man_, he dragged a shaking hand through his choppy bangs, pulling the hair back in befuddled contempt. _Still in Nibelheim, _he sardonically noted as he took in the sight of the second-story guest room; instantly connecting it to his location here in Shinra manor.

"Huh. So the nightmare has found you as well," said a guttural growl coming from some-fuck-where.

Zack jumped to his feet and lifted both arms; ready to throw hands before his semi-wild stare finally landed onto the slouching Vincent close by. His bent legs atrophied in strength however, effectively throwing the ex-SOLDIER back down onto the bed within the next seconds after his brief inspection of the other.

"Great Minerva's saggy _tits _man-" He trailed off, his breath ragged. "Vincent! Don't freakin' scare me like that!"

The aforementioned other blinked at him, his arms folded neatly in front of his thin chest. He was leaning coolly against the wall in the furthest corner of the room; his weight settled onto one leg in a lazy show of his boredom. He shrugged at Zack, the motion more an involuntary jerk than anything.

"Are you fully awake?" he asked, not at all acknowledging Zack's previous complaint.

The ex-SOLDIER hummed noncommittally, feeling strangely weirded out by the other's unblinking stare and flat monotone. He situated himself back on the bed, crossing his legs and resting his hands in his lap. His eyes narrowed as he suddenly recalled Vincent's first words to him.

"Uh, yeah," he uncertainly replied, forcing down his wariness. "What were you sayin' just a second ago-? Something about a nightmare thingy-?"

Vincent's head dipped minutely, "Its found you. That's all."

"Do you always have something weird to say whenever somebody gets up?" Zack's insensitive attempt at a casual joke here was cause for him to cringe however; immediately balking at the sheer laziness and lack of thought. To be fair however, he _did _just wake up and was still trying to screw his head back on.

As it were, Zack would've never figured someone like _Vincent _of all people reacting to the careless quip; the man turning his gaze all the way away and letting out a pointed sigh. "I apologize," he breathed in a lower, stonier tone than before. "I didn't realize my words usually sound so morbid."

Zack waved his arms around and flapped his lips, suddenly feeling rather sorry himself. "Look, uh. You don't need to go apologizing for it. I was just sticking my damn foot in my mouth again is all. Nuthin' new." He darted his eyes around again though, noticing the absence of a certain Turk in particular. "Hey uh, where's Cissnei?" he went to ask in an attempt to dispel the awkward air.

"Running errands," was the prompt reply. "She brought your belongings alongside hers to your ride outside Nibelheim. At this point, she says you two are still here only because moving you became too dangerous."

"Whaddya mean?" Zack entreated, suddenly feeling guilty for some unforeseen reason.

Vincent's blood-colored eyes finally seemed to remember to blink; the motion mechanical and almost alien for him. "You thrashed," he responded in his atypical, emotionless drone. "I carried you up the stairs and into this bed, seeing as Cissnei couldn't do it. You reacted to the relocation rather violently- swinging your arms around as you were." He tilted his head some, his eyes flashing with vague interest. "You hit pretty hard, you know."

"Aw crud," Zack bemoaned, scratching the back of his head in sheepish reflex. "Sorry... about that. I mean, I didn't hurt you _too _bad, did I?"

The other shrugged rather carelessly; as if Zack's obscene, in-human strength wasn't anything abnormal. Its a little odd, but it settled his whirling regret a little more easily; considering the kind of person Vincent was- Or rather _what he is_ in retrospect.

"If it were anyone else though," he casually supplied, interrupting the sideways tangent. "They would've needed the hospital. Or the morgue."

_...And he __**really**__ has no idea how to talk to people, does he? _Zack couldn't help noticing, feeling a single bead of fatigued sweat bud around his brow-line.

Vincent shook it off, either not noticing Zack's internalized consternation or blatantly ignoring it. "I would've carried you to the helicopter so she could air-lift you to the nearest hospital, but she said it didn't matter if she'd taken off right then: It would've been too late to do anything should you get professional help at that instant." His tone remained unbroken as he added, "Besides, she ended up explaining why your existence is a secret; and it would've complicated things should you get checked in."

"Uh-huh. So now you know the whole story too?" Zack inquired.

"Just the parts where she's involved; not your story in particular." Vincent's gaze drifted elsewhere, "Which reminds me: You may have enough time to explain your side before you leave."

"Oh yeah," Zack inclined his head and propped his hand under his somewhat prickly chin. "I do owe ya that, at least."

Vincent harrumphed, but its a sound of agreement. His pitch-black hair slipped in front of his glassy gaze next, thankfully breaking it. He continued his recount of the last while with, "By the time she got done with you, she was able to resuscitate you and stabilize your condition on the spot. She certainly knew what she was doing, at least," his tone seemed to soften at this; but Zack wasn't entirely sure if he imagined it. "I only moved you once you started breathing again. Clinically, you died for a moment there."

"Uh... good to know," Zack smiled, although its more a bitter grimace than anything. On the side, he felt indebted to Cissnei; mentally resolving to pay the girl back in some way or another down the line. "But uh, I gotta ask," he suddenly piped up, feeling a little uneasy. "It _was _Cissnei that actually took my clothes off, right? And uh, I'd like to know where those went..."

Vincent let out a noise that Zack assumed was either a chuckle or an annoyed growl; he assumed the former considering the man's relaxed posture. "She did; when you first started to suffocate," he began. "And there's a new freshly washed pile at the end of your bed if you actually looked." He gesticulated with a flick of his head, Zack finally catching sight of the pile of dark articles at the foot of his bed. Vincent continued smoothly with, "As it were, You've been sleep for a few hours- Cissnei said your episode happened somewhere around three last night. Its nine now."

"So, not long then," Zack nodded, thankful for the insight. Suddenly, he felt an inkling of dread as he recalled a very important detail in particular, groaning yet again as it sunk in. "Aw dammit! She said we should've been _gone _by now! Someone's coming to inspect the manor and we-"

Vincent held up the right arm; the one with no gauntlet covering it. "She told me to inform you they won't be here for another few hours. Relax," he firmly stated. "She's already done with everything else, as I've said already. She's only really waiting on you at this point. Once she's done double-checking and eliminating all traces of your existence here, she'll be here to get you; whether you've awoken or not."

"Oh," Zack nodded, still feeling a little off. "Well, uh, What about you, then? What're you going to do?"

"Seal myself back up," was the frank, unexpected answer. "After you've told me about you and Sephiroth."

Zack was left stumped by this development, but then an intrusive prickle of annoyance streaked through him at the first answer. "Wait, why?" he asked in a slightly tight-lipped manner, inclining his head. "I mean, you're not really gonna stay in that damn casket 'cuz of what _Hojo _did, are you? Or because of what Lucrecia decided? With what you told me, I never really saw what _they _committed is anything you should hold yourself responsible for."

"Then you've completely missed the point," Vincent sighed; his expression akin to one of Cissnei's more infamous 'Duh' masks she reserved just for Zack the times he said something stupid or obvious.

Still, the lack of justification on Vincent's part though certainly irked Zack at this point; and that wasn't an easy thing for most people to do so quickly. Misplaced guilt or shame always bugged Zack more quickly than anything else. Already, the ex-SOLDIER was planting his feet on the floor again with his hands resting on his knees. His shoulders squared, that tic in jaw clenching up again.

"Seriously man?" he said, shaking his head. His face hardened next, "Don't do it."

"Why not?" Vincent inquired in a tone that sounded like he's talking about the weather.

"Dude, come on. You know why," Zack started, his tone rigid enough for even Angeal to take pause.

"No, I suppose I don't," the older man retorted.

"No, you do. I just pointed it out," Zack returned in kind.

The ex-Turk harrumphed at him, shaking his head like an exasperated parent whose life-lesson just went over the head of their insolent child. "Its not about displaced blame," he began almost tiredly. "-Nor whom that blame belongs that affects my decision."

His hooded eyes suddenly became crisply clear; flashing fleetingly before settling again. He unwound his arms and jerked the right; the cape suddenly writhing into life as his emotions briefly stirred.

"-Its the fact that I didn't stop her _before _the project officially began that haunts me to this day, many years later," he went on, hoping to clarify his reasoning once and for all. "-Its the fact that even though I finally broke my silence and Turk code to intervene later on, the damage was already irrevocably done. As I've told you last night, I merely watched it unfold in the conceptual stages; and didn't do anything to truly protect Lucrecia _before _she told Hojo to inject the infant with Jenova cells."

"Yeah, well," Zack's surprisingly crass words did somewhat shock Vincent in passing, but not for long. He then put voice to the one question that's badgered him during the man's story, "What makes you think ya coulda stopped Lucrecia in the first place even if you did speak up sooner? She probably might've done it anyways and you _still _woulda ended up in that coffin blaming yourself for something you had no control of!"

His words were blunt and his reply belligerent, but it contained some semblance of a point. Nonetheless, Vincent fisted a piece of his cape and pulled it over his front; hiding his body-suit from view.

"Perhaps you're right. But it still doesn't change the fact that I chose to remain a bystander where it mattered most," he began again, his natural growl seemingly tapering off.

Zack licked his dry, chapped lips; briefly recalling the story's details and Vincent's reasoning for it. He did see where the man's coming from, but he still hated it.

_"Gast was convinced that if the Cetra were revived, our world would be saved from man's own destructive folly in the future," _Vincent had claimed last night._ "Lucrecia seemed truly taken by the idea however; but remained aloof at first. As the possibility to finally bring back an extinct species sunk in, she became content with it; even happy that she could not only help Gast realize one of his most intriguing life's work, but mother an entire race of saviors. A part of me would've wanted to believe in it myself-" _

_He chuckled for real this time, and its a noise that both Zack and his enraptured companion immediately found unnerving. _

_"But of course," he went on. "I didn't fall for the surreal image it painted, and didn't express my instinctive misgivings to Lucrecia- whereas I should've told her to end the project right then and there. The ethics of it stood in question- both morally and theoretically. Even though we didn't know for sure if Jenova's truly an Ancient, I still didn't put voice to my doubts. " _

_His somber gaze regained its former heaviness at this, "I didn't say anything, because I wanted to see her earnestly __**happy**__\- and this project's mere mention brought a light to her she didn't have before. Lucrecia was risking her body, her entire life's work on an 'educated' guess of Gast's- one of the smartest men of this age. What argument could some hired gun possibly counter-claim against somebody like that?"_

Vincent gave Zack one of his profoundly pointed stares, hoping the message sunk in upon seeing the recollection flash within his gaze. He breathed, "It probably sounds like an excuse to you, but you and I both know I had nothing to stand on in the first place. I was hired to protect Lucrecia- not counsel her." Vincent sighed in his own forlorn way, "Not that it matters now. Its quite possible that even with my words, Lucrecia would've possibly gone through with the plan; as you've said. Its certainly attractive enough."

"If she _really _cared about your feelings, she woulda listened anyways," Zack pointed out, his voice falling lower with each syllable.

_She couldn't seem to find a way to move on in the wake of your father's death. So you let her commit to this project. You just wanted to see her smile again._

Zack didn't put voice to these words though, keeping his expression pragmatic and flat._ I get it man; that's how I feel about Aerith and the situation she's in __**now**__, _he pondered. _But, its been decades for crying out loud. Surely you've figured it out by now? You can't just sit and do nothing anymore._

The older man lifted his head, his solemn profile indicating his own mental wanderings. He dismissively grunted, "My original point still stands. I've bound myself to this place to spend the rest of my undying days in self-imposed solitude to atone. There's no other way forward for one whom time has forsaken, after all. If anything, I don't even know why we're still re-hashing this."

_Probably 'cuz the fit I had interrupted our little sharing session_, Zack almost said aloud. _But boy oh boy don't I have some words for you._

Whatever the case, Zack immediately squared his shoulders; mentally gearing himself up for the building tangent ahead. He clapped his hands together and primly crossed his legs, back straight and head held high.

"Okay then," He sighed. "Then I guess its my turn to say you've missed the entire point of what atonement really is."

"Hm?"

Zack blinked and sighed, wondering how he was going to go about this without sounding like a preachy jack-off. His brow slapped an iron rod across his brilliant blues as he leveled the most terrifically stern, Angeal-like squint _ever _mimicked in blunt consternation- an art he'd finely tuned in years long past. "-I know you're probably gonna tune me out somewhere along the line, and you'd be right to do so. In fact, I'm probably one of the last people to be telling you this. So, I'm gonna sum it up right here in a way that its meant to be heard. Without me getting into the annoying monologing bit first, I gotta say: Vincent my man, that plan absolutely freakin' _sucks_! Just don't do it."

The out-of-the-blue lecture would've startled anyone else; had it not been Vincent who'd been on the receiving end of that little breach in Zack's usually genteel demeanor. Nonetheless, the ex-SOLDIER huffed and slicked back his hair in one smooth, practiced motion; nearly jumping to his feet just to pump out a few vigorous squats to get some decent blood-flow going again. After a brief lapse in this nature, the younger man turned to the older, his smile tight but true.

"I'm sorry, Vince," He first and foremost clarified, dipping his head in deference. "But I hafta say it like that. I didn't mean to sound like a jerk, and its not my intention to start now. But you know what? I feel like I have to share with you how that whole ordeal taught me; if you don't mind."

He watched Vincent steadily, noting the other man's careful scrutiny. He saw no budding inclination to stop him, so Zack continued uninterrupted.

"-You know, even after all that, sleeping on your sins still don't make a _lick _of sense to me," he went on as an opener. "As I understand it, actually finding a way to do better and keep from repeating those past mistakes always felt better than simply dwelling on what you did wrong. You were given something countless other people wished they coulda had: A second chance at life." Zack lifted his gaze again, his jaw clenching once. He jerked a pointer finger at the ex-Turk then,"Inaction's what brought you here; so why would more of it count as repentance? That's the part I just don't get. You say time stopped for you, but that's cuz you stopped it _yourself_. You can't go on because you're still trapped in your grief; and you can't find a way to cope with it or move on."

He lowered the hand, feeling like an ass for posturing the way he was. Instead, he switched to his more reflective stance of crossing his arms and putting weight onto one leg. He sighed again, turning to gaze out the cracked window to the bedroom. "I know you said blame and where its placed doesn't matter," he murmured. "-But if it were me, I still woulda went hunting Hojo's scummy ass down and making him feel every ounce of pain he's ever inflicted on Lucrecia and Sephiroth. And, even though it wouldn't bring me much happiness or absolution to tear 'im a new one- you'd never truly appropriately atoned until you've _tried _in earnest_._"

Vincent's eyes snapped onto Zack, his stare owlish. "You're suggesting revenge?" he seemed to almost boredly draw.

Zack maintained the stare unerringly as he elaborated, "Its not the whole vengeance thing I'm going on about: Its more or less what you do to with the cards you're dealt that counts. Some wise-ass I trusted in very much once told me, 'Men don't cry for themselves, but for others'-" He then added with earnest honesty, "If you really wanna do right by her, stop moping around in quiet regret and actually shoulder that sin responsibly- If this traumatic event weighs you down that damn much, then just don't ever willingly let that shit happen to anyone else. Protect them from people like Hojo; or just don't let 'em repeat your own mistakes. Doesn't that make any sense?"

His arms lowered as he offered instead, "So I'm suggesting this: Hojo gave you that body and you believe it your punishment, right? Why not just use it _against_ him? Don't let him repeat what he's done to you, Lucrecia, and her son throughout his twenty-something miserable years of life-"

At the mere suggestion that Hojo could've very well treated Sephiroth like a caged science project, Zack noticed Vincent's eyes darken with primal hostility. It seemed his words might just be connecting with him, as was intended.

On a side note; the image of a tiny, possibly under-weight boy with mousy silver hair and sad eyes wearing a hospital gown came unbidden to Zack: A younger Sephiroth being relentlessly poked and prodded at his whole life by people like Hojo and his technicians; none whatsoever emotionally connected to the mother-less boy who could've very well craved a normal family and affection- carried about from place to place daily to be trained like some starved service dog with no feelings. Then again, it may not have happened that way, but still Zack couldn't help thinking it.

Sephiroth's adult demeanor prior to his setting Nibelheim ablaze suggested that he had no emotional connections with anybody- with the exceptions being Angeal and Genesis; alongside Zack further down the line. The former world-renown hero had even lowly admitted to Zack that normality had always been beyond his reach; and its something he's known since he was very small. Hojo had been the only real constant in his life; and Zack could easily imagine having someone like that psycho as the only form of stability Sephiroth could've ever had would make anyone a little kooky.

Forcibly putting this aside, Zack's timbre lowered to a steadily firmer tone, "Remind Hojo you're still around, and you're the culmination of his worst _nightmares_. He'd hoped to bury you with the rest of his dirty secrets and live on, unfettered by his own blatant lack of guilt or morality. However, he shouldn't be _allowed _to get away with the atrocious ways he bastardizes and objectifies people as a whole anymore."

The frank truth certainly kept Vincent's attention; or so it appeared if his completely unflappable stare was anything to go by. Zack still studiously watched for anymore reaction on Vincent's part though, inwardly wondering if anything he's saying was actually fully getting through to him.

He nonetheless plodded on with, "Obviously, you cared about Lucrecia enough to let her do this because she couldn't find peace. You wanted her to move on; to cope. I know you said you'd suspect that the project would go tits-up; but you had no way of knowing _this _woulda happened. And you're always gonna carry that regret, no matter what. Maybe there's never gonna be a day where you won't live it down. But you know what?"

Zack's hands went to his waist, planting themselves there, "I can't imagine your death _not _bothering her in some way too. She was probably left wallowing in the regret that, not only did the project fail, but your life was sacrificed in the process. She probably _hated _herself for losing you and her only son in one fell swoop. I mean, I know I can't speak for Lucrecia and all, but I wouldn't imagine a decent woman who loved you, or actually cared for you in any way, would've wanted that for you. Your life's all that's left of her- Live it the way you believe is correct. Don't stay in the stupid coffin," he concluded. "'Cuz that's what Hojo really wants. Doncha think so too?"

The ex-Turk's eyes drifted to the floor, somewhere off to his left. In the silence that followed, he said nothing in response to Zack's words, his gaze taking on the traits of the infamous 'thousand-yard' stare. Eventually, he sighed; and its with a tight quality that Zack hoped betrayed his change of heart.

"So," he began again, his naturally gravelly tone deadpan. "At least answer me this: Do you think a sin, whether or not its beyond your control, can be forgiven?"

"You really don't know if ya don't try," Zack firmly stated with hardly much time to dwell on it. His crystalline eyes lingered on Vincent's bloodier pair, "Only you really can do the forgiving; atonement isn't something somebody can just hand you. I'd much rather spend my time finding some way to be productive in this world than linger on something I couldn't change or fix. And even if I _could _change it-"

Zack remembered his inability to convince Angeal to return; and feeling bad for failing Sephiroth when the man had depended on him to bring his only remaining friend home. His brow dipped further, his eyes hardening, "-Well, its happened, and there's no point on dwelling how different it could've been. Literally the only thing you can do is move on and _live_. I think you should go out there and see for yourself what action can do for you. At worst, you won't find that closure you need and you come back here and seal yourself up." He shrugged, "At least you went out there and tried. Ya couldn't do any worse than actually letting that creep keep doing what he's doing."

"...What about you then? Is that what you're doing now? Using action as an anesthetic to your own pain? Embracing the Turk's life-long code and living a lie long past death for the sake of vengeance?"

"Well, _technically _I'm not a legit trainee, and vengeance is only part of it," Zack returned with a rub to the back of the scalp. "But I'm hoping to do away with Hojo anyways so that even if something _should _inevitably happen to me, he won't be able to threaten Cloud or Aerith anymore. As far as I'm concerned, my whole mission isn't something as petty and self-giving as vengeance."

He balled his fists, his eyes flashing with menace; albeit briefly. "Shinra may be after Hojo with the intent of finding him alive, but that ain't how I roll this time around," he admitted. "That said, what I'm really hoping to do is make sure my friends don't suffer because of another man's lack of empathy. Hojo wants to stick more needles into Cloud, and I have _no _freakin' idea what he'll do to Aerith... and I don't plan on finding out."

"Hm."

Vincent's eyes caught the morning light more easily, comprehension dawning upon him as he seemed to notice the wary exhaustion and old pain edging Zack's words. He suddenly straightened to his fullest height; his lanky form almost entirely devoured by the rippling oceans of red from his cape. "You're not interested in capture nor mercy, then," he stated.

Zack grinned in confirmation, his gaze uncharacteristically shifting into a darker, crueler parody of his normal smiles. He didn't know where it came from nor how it came to be; but he supposed it blossomed into being when he learned the truth in its twisted entirety as of last night- All thanks to Vincent's story and his own newfound motivations for living.

Vincent's eyes flickered at some unforeseen brain-wave then, suddenly more interested in the previous subject. "If I may ask," he tried this time around. "-Whose Aerith, and why would Hojo want her?"

"Cissnei didn't mention her?" Zack tilted his head at this.

"Only that she said you have some sort of vested interest in protecting your last living loved ones; and even then she was vague about it. I suspect she figured it your business to give."

Zack hummed his ascent, confirming the other's previous query. "Well uh, let's just say Aerith's literally a giant middle finger to the whole _Jenova's-an-Ancient _thing," he almost mumbled, wondering how in the world he was ever going to begin to cover _that _whole subject.

_-So Sephiroth's whole life had been a wasted sacrifice _was the next unvoiced words that hung between the two, the statement feeling as tangible as if it had been screamed at full volume.

Whatever the case, Vincent's next grunt was one of vague interest; his eyes flickering as he carefully weighed the loaded statement. "Is this Aerith truly...?" he breathed in reverent shock not thirty seconds later.

Zack scratched his head, not expecting Vincent to catch on so damn quick. _Like holy crap dude. Turks are too freakin' sharp. _"Well... eh, yeah," he nodded, his eyes roving briefly about. "She is."

Vincent suddenly unfurled his large cape in dramatic flair; akin to a bird stretching out its wings and testing the air before taking flight. He faced Zack fully, his eyes _alive _with the roiling swirl of promise. "If she truly is one," The ex-Turk solemnly stated. "-Then I can only foresee a grim tomorrow for her; should Hojo continue to live."

"No kidding..." Zack weakly muttered, not quite eager to revisit the morbid idea of envisioning the girl's last days in a giant pickle jar. He felt terrifically horrible about it when Tseng first painted the picture early on; right when he told Zack about the goals of the Septimus Sect. "-Its bad enough Hojo's old as balls and still looks like he plans to stick around for a while," he added in an undertone more or less to himself and not so much to the ex-Turk beside him.

_"No," _Vincent very nearly snarled. _"He won't."_

He flared that damn cape again dramatically, openly approaching Zack and bearing down on him with this new affirmation. His blood-stare felt more like a blood-pact then. "Since time hasn't finished the job, then I'd like to join you," Vincent replied to Zack's advent, open-mouthed shock. "-If you'll have me."

"Wha- I- _huh_?" Zack stuttered.

Vincent gave an assured nod, lifting it to meet Zack's more studious gaze head-on. "Don't get me wrong: I'm not officially rejoining the Turks or anything; I merely wish to follow you and Cissnei out of here for the sole purpose of finding Hojo and giving him my regards- Alongside helping this other girl Hojo seems interested in."

Zack's mouth was now fully agape at this point, his expression completely petrified into permanent shock.

Vincent continued in the meantime, "-Obviously she's someone whom you're willing to don the Turk's code for; and I cannot stand by knowing that Hojo may possibly do worse to her than he did to Lucrecia. I'll help you with your mission, and protect this Aerith." He grounded out, keeping Zack's immobilized gaze locked onto himself, "I'll help you avenge the wrongs Hojo's committed to both you and Cloud. I'll make him regret his treatment of Sephiroth throughout his life. I'll make sure Cissnei and the other Turks don't meet my same fate as a result of their loyalty to their jobs nor to your own personal mission; and you'll all come out this ordeal alive. This I swear, if you allow it."

Zack couldn't help his next reaction; he didn't even think about it himself. Already he's up on his own feet and extending a slightly shaken hand to Vincent; never feeling more humbled than he did now. Hell, he'd yet to tell this man his full side of the story, and still Vincent sworn himself to a cause he knew next-to-nothing of. How the fuck could any decent human turn this down? It didn't matter if Vincent wasn't human himself; nor if he _was _in this out of purely selfish desire to pursue Hojo: All that mattered to Zack right then was that he had a new ally in this dark little corner of the world only he and six others stood in. Why not bring a secret eighth to the cause?

"You couldn't do me a greater honor," he said, feeling his heart thrum in reverent excitement.

Vincent stared at the proffered limb at first in mild wariness; but then hesitantly clasped it in turn.

* * *

~777~

Cloud had no memory of when, what, or where he was; as it were.

He certainly recalled _some _things, but not much beyond faint thumping and ambient chatter. He felt vague vertigo on occasion too, and the fleeting sensation of touch. His throat was stupid dry on the side, and that was annoying; but not quite like the sense of disorientation that plagued him upon waking.

Blearily, he noted the pass of dappled sunlight through foliage, and the vibrating thrum of a machine jerking around him- _car maybe_. Warmth was a soft bloom under his throbbing cranium; and the alien, but not unholy unpleasant sensation of sinuous digits through his shock-blond hair. Admittedly, it alerted him to sobriety faster than expected; but still he remained as prone as long as he could in order to allow the fingers' owner to continue whatever they're doing. It eased his aches, and allowed his mind to swim without burden nor wordy distraction.

He couldn't remember much of anything else really; and that revelation seemed to stir some frustrating familiarity. His lack of recollection and frequent lapses in time was now something he was _far _more acquainted with than what's considered normal- And that's a thought he didn't dare share with _anyone_. He didn't want to worry the others, but somehow felt rather than knew that his friends in AVALANCHE may already be concerned about him anyways-

Especially if he's somehow lying on somebody's _lap _like he figured he was.

He dearly hoped its one of the women with further consideration. _Please just don't be Yuffie though, _he couldn't help pleading. Cloud nonetheless braved the near insurmountable task of opening his eyes, blinking away bright and blurry spots- and very nearly heaving with abject relief when he saw Tifa- or more or less her _tits_\- obstructing his crap vision instead.

_...Welp, not a bad way to start the day, _was his next, sideways thought.

His body jumped rather harshly when the vehicle; likely the buggy, clambered clumsily over whatever unpaved road it followed. He almost hit Tifa's fun-bags in the process; and it promptly inspired him enough to sit up enough to see where the heck the group was heading.

"Oh! Cloud!" Tifa jolted.

Cloud braced himself against the seat, darting his head around to glimpse the lazy, panoramic pan of seamlessly green land and forest all around him. He couldn't help his random bout of confusion though; seeing as he couldn't recognize the terrain from any of their maps. "Where the Hell are we-?" He blurted.

"Holy 'ell Spikes!" Barret's blustering bellow thundered its way rudely through his eardrums; instantaneously inciting Cloud's unreasonably intrusive ire. "Ya fuckin' live!"

The ginormous ursine of a man was driving the open-air buggy at present, but he couldn't manage much more than a few jerky glances to take in the sight of the now awake and alert blond. Next to the driver's seat was Red and the lone Cait Sith (Cloud surmised that the stuffed moogle might be in the back); whose furry faces lingered longer than necessary. The middle row contained a flabber-gasted Aerith and a smirking Yuffie; whilst Cloud and Tifa themselves occupied the third and final row of the SUV-sized vehicle.

Cloud meanwhile straightened himself out and politely placed some small measure of space between he and the former bar-tender; trying his best to pretend that lying in Tifa's lap hadn't in any way _bothered _him in particular. He snorted, threw a callous arm over the side of the buggy and shrugged off his need to blush. "Does somebody mind tellin' me when and where the heck we are?" he started with instead. "Cuz now I'm sittin' here wondering when we actually left the hotel."

Cloud roved his eyes around, carefully weighing in the looks on his friends' faces and belatedly noticing the unwelcomed sight of matched expressions of concern. Even the obnoxious, talking _toy cat _of all things was giving him this one queer expression that compelled Cloud to wonder if he'd drooled all over himself in his sleep. Finally, after some awkward minute of each individual passing furtive glances at the another, some decent soul mustered the courtesy to speak.

"You... you really don't remember last night, do you?" Aerith haltingly tried.

"'Member what?" Cloud blinked, feeling his innards twist.

Cait Sith jumped to the head-rest of his seat and perched perfectly on it despite the reverberating shudders of their land rover. "Doncha know?" he babbled thickly in that weird accent of his. "Ya done took a dive from the top floor laddie! A real head-banger if it wasn't for the wee lassies here." He gesticulated to Tifa and Aerith next, stumping the blond man further, "Mind, the flowery lass kept'cha from droppin' like a wet deuce long enough for Tifa to get a hold of ya."

Despite the crude simile, Cloud found himself frowning at the reply. "Huh?" he cocked his head to one side, blinking a few more times for pointed measure.

Aerith picked up from there, albeit in a smaller voice than expected, "You uh... We were talking last night, and I asked you something, and you just... you kinda- how do I put it?" The flower girl shook her head, her bangs bouncing freely around her face. "-You just uh, you kinda clammed up, and then you turned _really _pale. You looked like you were going to throw up or something. So then you leaned against the rails of the balcony, and then just _tilted _over like you had no strength left. There wasn't any warning-"

Yuffie of course had to put in her two cents next, nearly throwing herself over the back of her seat as she added with a flourish, "Yeah! And you wanna know what else? Aerith saved your life yunno! She managed to hold onto you just long enough to get our attention. She used one of her feet to bang on the door to our room to wake us up, right? And then Tifa nearly broke the dang glass door trying to get to you! She hulled you up like you weighed _nuthin_'!" Her expression, though bright, didn't contain the usual mirth she normally carried as she finished it off with, "From what we saw, ya looked like you were havin' a fit or something. I think everybody here thought you had a seizure or a what'cha-ma-call-it."

Cloud certainly didn't disguise his bewilderment here; as he had no idea if he'd ever been prone to illnesses like that. Last time he checked, his SOLDIER-level conditioning weeded out people with ailments like this, or the process simply erased the existing weaknesses after the initiation into SOLDIER and consequent surgery. Mako energy and whatever the surgical procedure was used endowed accelerated _and _hyper-active rejuvenation- Meaning people with abnormal physical or mental conditions usually lost all traces of pre-existing issues.

So where the heck did he get this sickness from? Did his lack of remembrance of last night happen simply because of this one, lone episode; or was it somehow connected with his- dare he say it- amnesia?

Cloud never used that last word in reference to himself because he'd been afraid that it would suggest something truly insidious- that something may _actually _be wrong with him. Giving his inability to remember the last five years of his life a label of some kind was giving it tangibility- an _identity _of sorts. It meant ultimately acknowledging his glaring weakness to his friends; whom he swore to watch over peerlessly-

Especially in the cases of Aerith and Tifa, whose in fact _saved _Cloud from what could've been a quick and unwholesome death just last night. He swore to shield him, and yet they'd been his own shield in return. Its not that this bothered him, so much as the fact that he had to possibly _finally _accept his own weakness in turn. And that couldn't have frustrated him _more._

Weakness in himself was simply. Not. _Tolerable_.

Not so long Sephiroth remained alive.

For the moment, Cloud tried to save face and smiled pleasantly at the older women, dipping his head in genuine, humbled gratitude. "Thank you. The both of you," he nodded. "I'll hafta find some way to pay ya both back."

Cloud's smile faltered when he saw tightness wind its way to their faces, as if both knew his own expression was a flimsy cover. Nonetheless, Tifa and Aerith nodded back at him, one looking away while the other fidgeted with her wringing hands; respectively.

Despite this, Cloud turned to the loud-mouth in front of him and said in a hurry to change the subject, "So uh, you guys still haven't answered my earlier question about where we are or how long its been since we left. In fact, I wouldn't think those guys at the hotel woulda just letcha walk out if they knew what happened-"

Cait Sith's tail flipped around once. "We didn't tell anyone what happened," he seemed to thankfully pick up on Cloud's need to switch the subject around, trying to offer his feline equivalent of a grin. "When you'd stopped twitchin', its like you fell unconscious or asleep or sommat. You seemed stable, so we'd putcha to bed and watched over ya. We tried waking ya up a few times to prevent anymore fits, but it never happened." He folded his little twig arms next, "The next mornin', Barret and Tifa 'ere supported your dead arse and walked outta the hotel with your arms slung around 'im- I told the staff yous were sleepin' off a good night, and they bought it!"

Yuffie threw her hands under her head, supporting it. "You've been out since last night. Its like, three now?"

"_Three?_" Cloud's jaw fell unhinged. "_In the fucking afternoon_?"

From the corner of his peripherals, Cloud glimpsed Tifa pulling her legs in while shrinking to a smaller parody of herself. Her wine colored gaze remained adamantly on the land before her while she hunched her shoulders. "We uh," her voice was a low sound, almost too easily missed in the drone of passing wind. "We tried to get you to wake up a few times today too. We couldn't use our materia because nothing seemed wrong with you, nor did you react to anything we did. Aerith did- whatever she did-" she shrugged haphazardly at that. "-To try to get you to react after a while. By then, you looked like you were finally _peacefully _asleep and figured we'd let you rest another small while. We were going to stop for lunch and try waking you up again then."

Cloud rested an arm on the head rest of their shared seat, feeling rather restless after such an apparently long slumber. He bounced his leg once, thinning his lips.

Inwardly, he always hated how Tifa made herself look so small when it came to the things Aerith did. Granted, Aerith's freakishly amazing ability to heal wounds and tend to illness (like Cloud's mysterious fit) outside of the use of materia was abnormal, but handy. Meanwhile Tifa's fearless fighting spirit was equally valued in a way she herself doesn't seem to understand. In battle, the girl was a damn storm of untold, epic proportions- valor and beauty aside. Her expertise in hand-to-hand combat and natural ability to seamlessly join her furious techniques with _anyone's _attacks was a gods-bestowed gift and blessing all wrapped into one.

So why does she always seem to shut herself down whenever she's in close proximity to Cloud _outside_ the fight- especially when Aerith's around? Where did this secretive, timid shyness and reticence stem from? Was it something he did or said? Was this trait always natural? If it was, is her brazen audacity in battle merely a farce or a cover somehow? Or was it another genuine facet of her personality that slipped free of her wrought iron vice on her emotions?

And seriously? Why does she need to feel so damn guarded around _him _of all people anyways? He could've swore the term 'childhood' friends came with the presumed idea of no more secrets between them, right?

_And don't forget buddy, _he suddenly intrusively recalled. _She's the one tolerating having you in her lap almost the __**whole **__ride, if not entirely. Surely she's more comfortable with you then she let's on?_

Cloud's frown came and remained, fluctuating in various levels of disgruntled ruminating. The feel of her lingering, albeit ghostly touches against his scalp still left a skin-tingling wave in its wake. He briefly wondered why'd she do such a thing, but merely put it aside after he figured she'd only been trying to keep him from rolling over onto the floor during the buggy's bumps and hops. On another note, Cloud still couldn't ignore the blatant amount of tenderness in those touches; and it left a strange bubbling mix of confusion and- dare he say it- _warmth _boiling away in his belly.

He however had to let the thought go for now; sighing more heavily than even he expected. He passed Tifa a softer, albeit still bewildered glance and than focused on the road ahead. "So uh, we're we goin'?" he eventually asked. "And where the heck are we now?"

Red lifted his muzzled and sniffed the air, his moist nose twitching excitedly. "We managed to pass the Belted River," he began with an earnest budding of eagerness. Cloud chalked it up to his being so close to his native home on that note. "Some little while ago, we passed the lands that once bordered Banora limits, and now we're south-bound towards Gongaga."

The aforementioned names rankled something fierce within; prompting for Cloud's increased frown. He didn't know why, but he thought the town names rung with a level of importance he couldn't quite place. As it were, Banora's mention baffled him; seeing as he's pretty sure he's heard the name in passing probably around the time-frame of his mysterious past- the part he couldn't remember per se.

"Eh, Banora?" He probed, hoping a refresher could fish out that elusive memory.

Cait Sith's tail flipped, but its an agitated flick that actually surprised those sitting behind the feline. Cait Sith never seemed down, but if that little lash of the tail was anything to go by, it suggested the creature's true feelings on the matter during his next reply.

"A golden oldie that one," he started with that jovial pitch that Cloud was pretty sure was forced. He threw back his puny arms and waved exaggeratedly, as if to emphasize the importance of his next topic. "Its a tiny village that's the rustic poster-child of country upbringin'- Their whole shi-bang was fruits and veggies and world famous dumb-apple-themed country fairs and _acres_ of orchards. They're also home to the best apple pies in the world-!" He then added in a tone that certainly betrayed his discontent, "-That's until the whole place was leveled by Shinra. Not a single folk or townie from that village remains."

A chilling unease frosted his nerves. "Eh, 'no one'?" Cloud almost muttered.

"Notta a damn one," Barret said this time, throwing an indignant fist in the air briefly. "Whole town ended up like Corel- worse off even! I 'eard that little horror story sometime around two or three years ago. Imagine my damn shock to know that Shinra's been wiping out poor little towns long before I even heard of the term 'Mako'- Hot damn."

He spat off to the side of the car in finality, his burly shoulders shaking in pent-up fury.

"...If there _were_ any survivors, I've never known or met any," Red added with a drooping muzzle next, his naturally solemn sounding voice somehow more rueful. "My Grandfather once talked of having friends from there, a long time ago."

_Just another reason to hate Shinra then._

Cloud snorted, suddenly weirdly glad for the fluttering flare of anger to replace the earlier unease. "And Gongaga?" he pondered. "Why're we headed there?"

Cait Sith's more genuine good nature blossomed as he smiled toothily next. He jumped to the back seat and sat between Cloud and Tifa, eagerly taking out their copy of the Western continental map. He jabbed a gloved finger to a spot and said, "I was jus' a tinkerin' with me mog and gotsa chatter from some patrollin' Shinra grunt: Apparently, Security troopers were followin' a lead down south sayin' they've sighted a suspicious lookin' feller like Sephiroth in the region!"

"What the heck would he be doin' here?" Cloud scratched his scruffy head, blinking stupidly at the news.

"Dunno," shrugged the cat.

Despite this casual and unintelligent reply, Cait Sith _was _admittedly a surprisingly useful and tactically-able member of AVALANCHE in a couple ways:

When Cloud and the others first saw him, the cat was running loaded die in the Golden Saucer Wonder Square against Shinra employees all without their knowing. The poor fools never imagined (nor suspected) that they'd be swindled of their recent paychecks by a crooked, fortune-telling, gambling machine shaped in the form of child's toy. This sentient A.I also happened to ride this moogle-shaped animatronic that tapped into Shinra lines for Minerva knows what reasons. Cait Sith also carried some of his own repair tools inside the four-foot mog's cartoonishy large belly; alongside more shifty objects of varying nature.

And the fact that he had codes for the more obscured Shinra-owned channels on the wave-receiver inside Mog was an additional bonus. He's able to listen to their movements like its coming through a police scanner; and he always seemed to have a general idea of where the president's going. With this ability to tap into Security Sect-owned channels, the group can effortlessly follow the company's trail more easily than by simply wandering around.

As to how Cait Sith came to be and why he'd conveniently had such a shady way of monitoring Shinra Army movements, any questions he fielded he readily answered:

He told them that some years ago, some SOLDIER-level deserters and a handful of other staff quit Shinra; led by a young man named Genesis. Cait Sith proceeded to ask AVALANCHE if any of them ever heard of any SOLDIERs outside of Sephiroth, but no one seemed to have heard of Genesis. Cloud however eerily found the name familiar and almost eagerly probed Cait Sith for more detail, realizing that this name resonated for him and stirred the locked confines of his amnesiac past.

Cait Sith smiled almost knowingly and supplied that Genesis, in his relentless warring with Shinra, stole copious amounts of their equipment and managed to build listening devices in an attempt to out-maneuver the company. He used to have moles in Shinra, but all had failed in the grand scheme of things- one such name that came up was the Director of SOLDIER himself- whose name was promptly erased from the records when the late president found out.

Anyway, Genesis used his old contacts in Shinra to funnel resources to himself and even found violent, unorthodox ways to mess with them: Like cloning his abilities in his men and fellow SOLDIERs under his command. He kept this up for a few years; and although he'd been a merciless, opportunistic opponent in his own right, his own debilitated health and lack of access to any new resources or manpower ultimately helped finish his resistance. Genesis faded into obscurity; a bad memory nobody in Shinra wanted to drudge up. Apparently, nobody talked about him because he tarnished not only the company's name, but SOLDIER's image as a whole.

_"But he left a lotta stuff behind!" Cait Sith had concluded in this story. "Including some of his stolen tech and forgotten listenin' devices like me!"_

_"So, he made some cartoon cats and Moogles so he could get close to Shinra?" Cloud and the others had skeptically inquired._

_Cait Sith impishly smirked in reply at first. "War's not waged through open battle and awesome brawny heroes like Sephiroth, boyo. Its really through bloodless deceit behind closed doors that does it." His response were carefully measured, betraying a strangely human nature within the weirdly well enunciated fact behind his words. A profound lack of accent was also noted in that reply, and it made Cloud wonder if his speech was a natural quirk or another farce all in all. _

_"-You'd be surprised how desperate he got," the cat added with his usual accented tone next, leading Cloud to think he might've imagined the vocal shift. "What better way to get close to Shinra personnel than through their own family or friendlies? If I look so cute to the kiddies, then their parents woulda never known their child's toys were enemy spyware."_

In hind-sight, its tactically deviant, even brilliant despite it being a long shot- But this whole long story made short; Cait Sith was the leftover scrap (self-proclaimed) from Genesis' campaign against Shinra. He however left Midgar when he learned of Genesis' supposed death several years ago, deciding to fix himself up to make his own fortune.

_"But why make them sentient?" Tifa had inquired. "With this kind of free-will, wasn't it possible for any of you to defect or something?"_

_The cartoon cat seemed to hug himself and shuddered, his fur standing on end. "I dunno about you, but 'tween pissing off a man known to be Sephiroth's equal or doin' a little light spy-work with a the benefit of havin' access to Shinra level gear to upgrade yourself with, I'd think doin' the latter was yer best bet!"_

That said, suddenly siding with Genesis did seem like a pretty good idea. On the side, even if somebody figured the Cait model was an actual spy-machine, the robotic creature possessed self-preservation instincts of a kind that allowed it to make rationalized decisions in how to deal with any situation thrown his way. Sentience was a form of weaponry; seeing as a mindless drone would be more easily discovered and re-purposed in adverse ways.

And, despite the detailed explanations of this intricate story, Cloud wondered about its credibility and the worth of Cait Sith's trust. Instincts told him to remain wary of this convenient telling and supposedly former spy-drone; but keeping the feline in close proximity due to his useful insight was too hard to pass up. Barret had been all for it himself, and even Tifa had hesitantly voted to keep Cait Sith around to see what he can do. Nonetheless, Cloud always kept an eye on the mechanical cat, wondering why he felt the way he did.

Recollections aside, Cait Sith pointed to a spot on the Gongaga region of the map and presented it to Cloud. "If its _really _Sephiroth," he began with an air of caution. "He ain't stayin' in any one place for long. He's prob'bly goin' about dodgin' Shinra like we are. Or maybe he's leading us awry on purpose-?"

"Why would you think that?" Tifa inquired.

The creature fell silent, moving a gloved paw to his minuscule chin. "Dunno," he almost purred in thoughtful reverie. "I just can't help feelin' his dodgy behavior is somehow meant to lead all these factions in the wrong direction or somethin'. I keep 'earin' of sightings of him all over the world, and now I'm wonderin' if the Sephiroth we're chasing is more fake than anythin'."

Cloud lopsidedly shrugged, "Its a possibility. And now that I'm thinkin' about it, didn't you guys mention this same thing earlier on? Like, back at the Costa Del Sol, right?"

Tifa's shy demeanor from earlier had dissipated, leaving only a disconcerted grimace flickering in its wake. "Yeah. I believe your answer to that however was something along the lines of: Following this Sephiroth, whether real or otherwise, would still more or less lead us to whatever he or Shinra's up to. Not that I'm disagreeing with it," she added almost hurriedly.

Cloud hummed his consent, remembering his reasoning for continuing the chase as well. Besides, its not like the group had anything else to go by unless they came upon the real deal in the long run- should that actually happen. At present, this talking cat was their best bet of making any head-way.

In the meantime, Cait Sith gave a little bob of his near non-existent shoulders and put the paper away. "Sounds alright to me!" He blithely agreed. "I'm only helping with the navigatin' at this point; not so much the reasoning for it."

Cloud nodded, keeping his stony expression set in place. "Just know that finding _anything_ of Sephiroth is reason enough- other than the fact that these things, clones or... whatever, is a danger to the people they're usually surrounded by." He thought back to the ship and felt his gut clench at the memory, alongside the recollection of Nibelheim's purge and the destruction of the Shinra building the night of their incarceration. His tone took a more grim turn as he elaborated with, "Anything associated with Sephiroth seems to be connected with death. If we keep riding this train to the very end, I know we'll find _something _of him. Soon."

"Hell yeah!" Barret whooped.

Cait Sith passed Cloud another rather strangely human expression of avid interest; one of his ears giving a single, cursory flick in as the words sunk in. "You really think followin' possibly dead leads will still yield ya somethin'? Ya dunno what you might get into," he said with a tail swishing into view.

The man almost actually _grinned _at that, smiling at the bipedal feline in assured promise. He leaned in almost conspiratorially, his mako eyes flashing. "Ain't no jumping off this train we're on, Cat. I'm in it to finish it- And make sure there's no repeat of Nibelheim or otherwise." His eyes fleetingly flickered to Tifa, his guilt of coming too late to her aid a great wound in his chest. "Count on it," he vehemently stated.

Cloud couldn't see whatever strange emotion might've flashed there in the cat's suddenly blank gaze that day, but he could've swore he saw something almost akin to a great reverence or respect of the blond's resolve. The feline pumped his arms, his smile quite wide. "Then I'll be happy to guide you! In whatever way I can," he excitedly proclaimed, balling his little fists and proudly drawing himself to his fullest, diminutive height of a wholesome two feet and three inches.

With that assurance set in stone, Cait Sith leaped to the next seat ahead; curling around Aerith's lap and lying down with a rather animistically convincing yawn. Yuffie reached over and fiddled with Cait's boots, curiously poking at him while Aerith absently stroked the feline's head.

When Cloud saw Aerith's strangely mute consternation searing away at her stiff movements and vacant face however, he leaned forward and folded his arms across the seat's head-rest. He inclined his head, tilting it somewhat. "Troubled?" he queried.

The girl passed him one of those weird Aerith-stares only she's able to muster; the enigmatic mask strangely tight on her heart-shaped face. Her peachy color was rather wane, her eyes unfocused. Cryptically, she shook her head with a tired smile not quite like the ones she usually summons. But, as quickly as she plastered it on, she's suddenly changing her mind and sighing like she's put-out.

"Am I that obvious?" She mumbled.

Cloud chuckled, "You can stand to be less obvious about it. You're thinking so loud I think I can actually _feel it _from back there."

"Sorry," her head sank until her chin was almost touching her chest. "Its just... now I'm left wondering if by chance you'd actually remember anything of last night at _all_," she reluctantly conceded in a hush. Her next expression was this terse giggle that couldn't have been more sardonic for her standards, "I mean, I actually thought I _broke _you or something for crying out loud. You didn't seem to act out of the ordinary until I asked you about uh... my uh-"

As if afraid her own words would instigate a second episode, the poor girl silenced herself before she could say more. She turned away, as if expecting Cloud to actually know what she's saying- Which is, frankly, something he's _supposed _to know perversely enough.

-Not that his stupid brain would allow him that honor however.

Cloud sighed, his shoulders heaving, "Aerith, I'm sorry but... I don't actually remember your question. I think I _kinda _remember the talk? Maybe?" He shook his head again, and then checked his right side: Tifa was staring out at the field again, but on occasion Cloud thought he felt her warm eyes wander back to himself. He lowered his voice and dared himself to get as close as he felt was necessary to Aerith, feeling bad about talking so surreptitiously in front of essentially their whole group.

"Look," he started again in a low tenor just loud enough for Aerith to barely catch, hoping that Cait Sith wasn't paying attention or was 'asleep' at present. "I think I _do _remember you sayin' somethin' about... her-" he jerked his head at Tifa's direction. "But nuthin' else comes to mind. I just- I'm sorry about that. _Really_."

"That's okay," she gently returned with a ginger undertone that betrayed her intermingled melancholy and relief. "Can't say I didn't expect it though, somehow or another."

_She expected me to forget?_

"Wanna talk about it later?" he whispered back, feeling strangely vulnerable. "I wouldn't mind a refresher."

Aerith's smile thankfully grew back to its former self, with a twinkle of what Cloud could've swore was _mischief _in her fae-eyes. "Sure," she began with a growing mirth, her voice lowering more as she continued. "We'll certainly re-hash the reason for your _date _you're totally having with Tifa."

Cloud was suddenly throwing himself almost violently back in the seat as far as he could from Aerith; not at all remembering agreeing to such a deal. His gut flip-flopped in all kinds of twisty wads, his pale cheeks suddenly feeling quite treacherous.

Beside him, Tifa, had felt his jerky reaction more than seen it, blinking in stupefied concern as if jarred her from her own thoughts. "Hey uh, are you okay?" she entreated rather cautiously. "Your face is a little red."

Cloud flapped his lips, firmly clamped his mouth shut, and tried to clumsily wave off his flustered emotions. "M'good," he shortly replied, his words more a mutter than anything. "Just rememberin' if we could stop for some eats. I wouldn't mind some grub."

"Oh my _gawd_, me too!" Yuffie suddenly yowled out of nowhere. "Let's stop for some pizza!"

"Oh _HELLLLL _yeah!" Barret crowed. "I'm all in for some of dat!"

"Actually, that doesn't sound so bad. Although, I'm not much for Pizza myself. Can't really pick it up anyways," Red shrugged while holding up his front paws in a vague show of good humor. "If the place doubles as a wing joint however, I wouldn't mind a mid order of dry-rub drums or something."

Aerith clapped her hands together, giggling at the renewed cheer in the group. "How about both?" she coyly offered.

Yuffie grinned at her, "Both?"

"Both."

"Both is good!" She pumped her fists.

Aerith returned the enthusiasm with a rather melodious, "Both is good."

Cloud, thankful for the abrupt change in topics reclined in his seat, propping a lazy hand under his chin. He licked his dried lips and flashed Tifa a somewhat reserved glance, wondering what in all the world he'd talk to Aerith about last night.

If only he could fucking remember, God dang it all.

* * *

~777~

To say the least, the nearest pizza joint they were finally able to find wasn't so bad after all.

Cloud felt better after that, even normal in some ways. He of course didn't try to speak with Aerith so soon again though; trying desperately as he was to recall a single detail of his conversation with the girl. Nonetheless, the group managed to find a decent spot to check in at some day's drive from Gongaga. After spending a normal night relaxing and eating leftover pizza and taking the chance to shower, the group fell asleep with little qualm surprisingly.

Cloud still couldn't remember jack-shit that next day, but found that his memory wasn't so abhorrently out-of-reach if he actually had the time to sit and relax. He still couldn't really focus for long though, and got steady headaches a lot more often than the people around him realized. Its not a thing that's known amongst them, but Cloud was indeed plagued by these annoying pulses of dull throbbing and frequent lightheadedness. Whenever the group wasn't looking and the lot of them got the time to check out some stores, Cloud decided to go for broke and discreetly bought a bottle of pain relievers. He felt he's committing a crime for some unholy reason, but he still didn't breathe a word.

That day however was going to prove to be an interesting one though; almost two full days after his first episode.

The land drastically switched between lush greenery and sparse grasses; and then transformed into verdant forests without much distinction between land features. The area around Gongaga was like the epitome of everything _wild_\- no people, no buildings, and animals aplenty darting in and out of sight all over. Errant monsters however broke up the otherwise tranquil scene; and its an unsightly observation that lead Cloud to assume that the town itself either had a reactor directly in it, or nearby.

Monsters were strange things: Animals or people exposed to such toxic, uncontrolled bursts of refined, pressurized energy would certainly get sick. But in high enough doses and frequent concentrations of it, mako energy had a nasty tendency to warp and twist the flora and fauna into bastardized amalgamations of itself. Normal animals became these monsters, and humans died or... disappeared in the aftermath of the radiated exposure. As it were, only mako reactors had this effect on life; not the raw energy itself.

The raw energy in question; unrefined in its most natural state still left people with bouts of sickness or poisoning of a kind, but nothing so dramatic or fatal- That's unless you fell directly into the life-stream itself and was bombarded with all of its information at once; and you wind up consequentially buried underneath miles of earth with no hope of return supposedly. It wasn't an unnatural phenomenon for creatures great or small to be exposed to the twisting rivers of energy threading its way through breaks in the planet's crust otherwise. The Life-stream was a normal, everyday part of their world that shaped their ecology and promoted genetic variance and biodiversity. It didn't contort the creature's body beyond recognition like Mako energy did. Over-load and fry your brain maybe, but not mutate.

Tangents aside, Cloud had to stop the buggy outside Gongaga when he noted the deplorable lack of fuel in the car. He pursed his lip and tapped the meters, sighing heavily as he wondered how the hell he was going to fuel this thing. What did it run on anyway? Mako energy like every thing else in the whole god-damn world?

"Actually, its gas."

The group was sitting around the car now, watching as Cait Sith fiddled with the vehicle in his own ingenious way. The mechanical feline looked up, bobbing his furry black shoulders in blatant confusion. "I can't believe we've been driving a _gas _guzzlin' novelty and notta mako-devourin' soul-sucker this whole time," he rambled. "Like, what're the odds of seeing a car like this nowadays, eh?"

"As much as I 'preciate the man's taste in fuel sources," Barret growled with a folded set of arm and not-arm, referring to Dio with no small amount of bite in his usual gravelly snarl. "Where in the bloody _Hell _are we gonna find a gas station in all of creation? Fuckin' shit."

"It doesn't seem like it, but there's lots of smaller towns with gas stations," Tifa offered. "The ones that have no reactor or access to Shinra shipping lanes have to get by somehow."

"How come we haven't seen any along the way then?" Aerith curiously asked.

Tifa's next reply was dismissive-sounding, "Shinra frequents this side of the continent a lot. From the mines up North, to the Costa Del Sol, to the Golden Saucer, through miles of old villages and ruins, to _here_." She waved an arm around. "Just about everything from here North runs on mako energy. I think they're trying to choke out the last of the coal and oil businesses on this continent altogether, but not fully."

"Buncha monopolizin', no good, greedy, fuck-tard bumpin', ass-suckin'-" Barret began before Tifa abruptly covered his mouth. She shushed him and rolled her eyes, inclining her head at the young Yuffie nearby; whose yet to reach the legally adult age.

"You think there's one here in Gongaga at all?" Cloud cocked his head, his own arms folded as well as having ignored Barret's rather descriptive opinion of the company.

Tifa nodded, extracting her hand from the muttering leader with her arms migrating behind her back. "The region wasn't exactly _rich _in it, but they didn't exactly have little either. I'm willing to bet that the reactor was built here because their economy might've been failing. Nobody ever really heads this far south unless they're taking the scenic way around to Cosmo Canyon. Right Red?"

The quadruped nodded.

This was true: Most areas naturally rich in vast biodiversity was a mako-charged money-making hot-spot waiting to happen. And it just so happened that Gongaga was chock full of said life. The oil business wasn't really working out here anyways, so the reactor was hurriedly built in an effort to put the lonely town back on the map. And as luck would have it, the reactor blew up some fairly short while ago; in a cataclysmically epic way that no doubt took the lives of not only a lot of people, but effectively wiped the town off the face of Gaia. This said, the people were said to live in houses hand-built from the ground up; made from dirt, wood, and various other natural sources that can be harvested from the crazed, mako-doused woods around them.

Cloud surveyed the grand woodlands before him, speculatively weighing its health and the likely aggressive nature of the mutated mega-fauna sleeping inside. He then turned his attention to the grievous crater fanning from the ruins of the splintered, skeletal shards; stretching to vast distances all around it- Maybe even a full mile if Cloud was measuring it right. The reactor itself now looked like some junkyard scrap heap ready for disposal; not at all reminiscent of its former nature as a stable structure.

Outside of the ruins of the barren crater, the swaying tree-line cautiously threaded its way back towards the center; as if in fervent hopes of reclaiming lost land with patience and time. The roots crept around meridian lines in the planet's crust; following the throbbing pull of the life-stream as it lead back towards the reactor. So far, Cloud saw no people or houses, but that didn't mean they weren't in the bracken somewhere.

"Okay," he clapped his hands and flicked his head at the others. "Here's what we're gonna do: we're gonna go in there, find the village, mosey on up to a townie, and pray to Minerva they have something. Worse comes to worse, they won't have any gas and we'll just have to hoof it to the next town."

"But... but that can take _days_. Weeks at that!" Yuffie spouted.

Cloud smiled crookedly at that. "Then, here's hoping they actually have somethin'," he snorted. "Given they don't have chocobos or something."

* * *

~777~

And so it went; the travel-weary band trudging their way through waist-high brush and thorns with the ever looming sensation of unseen eyes and slobbering jaws watching their every quaking step. The broody woods fell silent at unnerving intervals of regularity; as if invisible beasts of the poetic or mythical variety lie in wait. Birds stopped twittering about some thirty minutes into their walk; with the occasional moan of an ancient branch dancing in the unfelt air currents above. The winds remained undetected on the forest floor; the imposing trees breaking it up long before its creeping descent.

The silence was certainly enough to throw Yuffie into twitchy, paranoia-filled vigilance quite uncharacteristic of her loud nature. Aerith's lips pursed almost as often as Cloud's; while Tifa kept her gloves donned in the case some monstrous behemoth decided to deign them with its appearance. Barret kept his gun arm loaded, while Cait Sith and Mog used some unknown sensors or something to survey the forest. At present, Red lead the team by nose; claiming that he'd sniffed out the fires of the village.

He added that the likelihood of the town having some well-used pathways they could safely navigate was considered. And as if to prove him right, they managed to find one such road big enough to accommodate a pair of chocobos riding abreast about forty-five minutes into their walk. Upon finding it, AVALANCHE couldn't help their collective sighs of relief at the signs of actual human habitation. They trekked its length and found a forking path some decent ways down, alongside a more direct route to the ruins of the reactor and said village in question.

However, as if to further convince Cloud of his sudden misgivings, he instantaneously recognized the distinctive voices of some unwanted, albeit familiar individuals upon further scrutiny.

"So uh... whaddya think of the new guy?" said one with a lazy stoner's drawl.

Its miraculous that he hadn't heard the group's heavy footfalls thus far; but Cloud chalked it up to the annoying amount of bird-song and animal calls in the relatively normal stretch of land untouched by mako taint. He nonetheless hunkered down into the bracken, waving at the others to spread out and do the same. Red flicked his tail and concealed it underneath his belly to hide the flame on the tip; his shoulders bunched and single eye predatory.

"I mean, I know the boss-man said he trusts 'im, but the guy has an emotionally volatile personality that can flip on a dime," snapped the now easily recognizable Reno; a person whom Cloud certainly _disliked _to say the least. "He don't really much care for Shinra either. So I can't help thinkin' he'll compromise us in the long run. Has he worked out so far? Little sis' say anything interestin' in particular?"

_Must've finally recovered from his wounds, _Cloud thought with bitter humor. _Its a shame he didn't retire though... Better luck next time I guess._

_Still. What're the Turks doing here anyhow?_

On another note, Cloud absolutely _hated _Reno: The guy's callous personality and lofty air of smug, sarcastic calm was grating enough to get your teeth grinding. Contrary to his careless speech and unkempt appearance though, the guy's a devoted worker with an excellent and long-standing track record bested only by Tseng; the Turks' oldest member and leader. Reno was also rumored to be second in command due to his extensive work history and religious dedication to his morbid career; although the odds of his coming to claim such an important role might've been part-way because the Turks were short on man-power nowadays.

Usually, Reno was accompanied by the brawny bald Rude; a dark-skinned, taciturn man of few words. Rude somehow seemed quite alright with whatever Reno decided to do; although its not to say he's a tool. Rude simply deferred to Reno's judgement not because of his slightly longer service history, but because the man earnestly seemed to be Reno's closest friend and most trusted compatriot.

At present, the duo was idly lazing about in the open, Reno tapping his ERM Rod on his shoulder while wearing an absolutely _bored _mask of vague disinterest. His red hair was a more shocking, brighter color than Cissnei's tame russet; a color equivalent to the glaring paint job on a fire hydrant that stood on end at all times. The appearance of it within itself screamed _DRESS CODE VIOLATION _in bright neon lights; in addition to his exposed undershirt and lack of tie. Its a wonder he's been allowed to keep the look despite the rigid dress regulation in Shinra.

Rude meanwhile simply regarded the prickly flower bush nearby, passively eyeing the tiny buds growing upon its dark stems. The man fixed his shades a little more snugly to his crooked nose; probably broken enough times to give it that distinctive, bumpy curve at the bridge. He gave what Cloud guessed was a shrug, "Cissnei said he's been solid so far," he stated in an eternally calm baritone. "Restless maybe, but more reasonably practical than originally expected."

"Huh," Reno's voice however still didn't sound much too thrilled by this. "They say when they're gonna show up?"

"Later on today," Rude confirmed in curt fashion. "Probably within the next hour or less if they didn't run into any problems."

Reno sighed obnoxiously loudly and threw himself against a tree, blowing some errant red hair out of his face. "God. Why do _we _hafta baby-sit Scarlet anyways? Couldn't the boss-man just let us carry the news to 'em? I'd think Scarlet woulda found it weird that Tseng would temporarily ditch her otherwise."

_What news? Is he talking about Copper-hair and the hooded guy? _Cloud frowned. He looked over at his fellows, trying to catch any of their fleeting expressions of matched interest.

Rude grunted next, "You know the lines are tapped. He can't text the exact details to us. Besides, little sister said she and the new guy found somethin' worth seeing. Tseng however needs to give his consent in person."

Reno blinked away his earlier contempt, and then rounded his lips into an inquisitive 'o' shape. He clucked his tongue, "Oh yeah? Know anything 'bout it?"

Rude sadly shook his head, "No."

"Ugh," Reno slipped down the trunk and seated himself on his rump. "I swear Scarlet's gonna eat us all alive one of these days. Freakin' woman's just _waitin' _to find an apt reason to shut us all down."

Another grunt was his reply.

Just then, Cloud heard the crackling foot-falls of a hurried set of steps; his body instinctively ducking itself closer to the earth in an attempt to keep himself concealed. His friends did the same; reacting similarly to himself.

A short, blond-haired woman with a bob hair-cut stopping just shy of her nape sprinted by; her freshly-pressed uniform and stern, frosty eyes a sheer sign of her association with the Turks. She stopped short and clapped her heels together in ram-rod pride; one arm thrust out-ward and snapping abruptly to her chest. The stout salute was formerly employed by the Turks long ago; before the gesture was deemed no longer mandatory some ten or so years back. In a way, her punctuated posture suggested her rigid loyalty to the uniform.

Long description made short, Cloud automatically figured her a square peg that couldn't possibly get any _squarer _than the shape itself. The girl was practically the blunt-force definition of it.

"Sirs!" She almost boisterously bellowed, her head held high despite her vertically challenged height. "Tseng awaits your presence at junction 2-3-7b. He's sent me ahead to fetch Shuriken and Glaive whose arriving at this very moment at point 9-4-7j!"

"Freakin' cripes little sister," Reno cackled, throwing back his head and shoulders like she's just belched out the greatest joke in the world. "Drop the formality for crying out loud! Nobody actually uses that salute anymore ya know," he stated in breathless glee.

Rude harrumphed good-humoredly himself, but then reciprocated with, "Acknowledged" in between bouts of Reno's winded laughter.

The blond-haired woman, whom Cloud recognized as Elena looked both mollified and indignant all at once; her lower lip puckering out in flustered embarrassment. She reluctantly released her tight salute, shoulders slumping in minute nuance. Reno seemed to notice her chagrin and gave her a humored smirk, reaching over and deliberately ruffling her carefully combed hair.

"Relax Elena," he earnestly grinned. "You're a credit to the uniform. Just don't be so damn serious all the time, okay? It gets to ya that way."

"E-eh... What does?" She batted his hand away like its infected, struggling to tame her suddenly volumnized locks.

Reno's smile lost some of its luster, but its a subtle observation that could've easily been lost had one not known what to look for. "You'll learn," was all he said to that. He then turned towards Rude and jerked his head next, mutely informing his comrade of his readiness. The two dashed off, whilst Elena huffed and darted off in the opposite direction of them; down the road ahead.

Once Cloud was sure they've gone, he turned towards the others and signed the all-clear signal Barret himself usually used. He drew himself up, feeling briefly winded from holding his damn breath throughout the duration of that whole conversation. Blinking off the usual light-headed reaction to his anxiety, he turned towards the others and flicked his head in the direction Elena had gone.

"Aerith, do you know who Shuriken and Glaive are?" He lowly inquired, briefly recalling that the Ancient was weirdly familiar with the various individuals.

The girl hummed, moving a tentative hand to her pert lips in consternation. She'd apparently been chewing on them the whole time the Turks had been talking. "I think they're code names," she began thoughtfully. "Either that, or something else in particular. Sometimes, I think I've heard names of this nature referenced to a certain talent a Turk has; like a weapon he or she uses. But, I'm not entirely sure if this is true. It could've been a rumor for all I know."

"Then... If you had to hazard a guess, who do you think Shuriken is-?" He airily implied.

Aerith frowned daintily. "Most likely Cissnei- the girl we saw on the boat," she surmised.

"D'ya think Glaive's the other guy?" Yuffie suggested with a suspicious squint.

The flower girl shrugged helplessly at that, "Mm, maybe- It makes sense seeing as they're the weapons he used on that monster."

Cait Sith's whiskered snout curled, his tail lashing once. "I swear that smallish lass' gob is a real blighter. She just blurts out sensitive marlark when it comes to mind." He turned to the others, "Mind, I heard that same rumor meself; the Turks' havin' alternate names other than the ones we know. I think each individual could very well have two or three at any one time, at a minimum."

"Wow," Tifa breathed. "Why do they have so many names anyways?"

Cait bobbed his shoulders, "Eh, I don't really know _all _the details, but I 'ear its an old practice they've had since they've started 'round thirty-some odd years ago. Its supposed to help breed familiarity amongst themselves besides providing additional cover. If there's other uses for the names though, I really dunno the use of it. Its kinda mucked up if ya ask me!"

"No kiddin'," Barret shortly snorted.

Cloud shrugged, folding his arms as he weighed the information in terse reverie. _At least we have a name for that guy_, he nodded. _Kinda. So I guess he's a legit Turk or something-?_

He shook it off and then lazily waved off the topic, "Whatever the case, we need to get back on track. We can't be hangin' around here whenever Scarlet _does _show. And frankly, I don't want these guys knowin' we're here too, on the side."

"Given they don't see they huge, bright dune buggy sitting right smack dab in the middle of a quaint little clearing near here," Yuffie sarcastically commented.

Tifa actually sighed and clapped a hand on Yuffie's shoulder then. "Come on," she told her in motherly firmness. "Cloud's right; the sooner we go, the better. No need to complain about it."

Yuffie puffed, lifting her dark bangs off of her eyes in the process. She muttered a half-hearted "Whatever" and ducked her head like a scolded teenager; not at all feeling very any of her usual bluster.

The group easily moved on afterwards, carefully making their way down the rocky dirt path in wary silence. Red and Cloud both kept the lead while setting the pace, the latter's brisk march the only outward sign of his agitated feelings. And even then, after a half-a-minute of walking he felt himself calm as they came within sight of the hidden town up ahead.

Gongaga village was indeed the poorest looking, smallest settlement Cloud has ever seen in his whole stinking life. He expected it to be small, but not so _freaking minuscule _that its borders was rendered invisible in these woods. And by 'freaking minuscule', he meant that the buildings rounded to a humbled handful of hand-crafted, woody buildings slumped together in hasty carelessness- or lack of willful construction. Cloud couldn't quite tell the difference.

The houses were more or less huts made from some pretty decent timber at least; probably containing no more than three or four rooms at maximum for each- Not bad, all things considered. Still, the huts couldn't possibly be comfortable to live in year-round, but it didn't seem to deter the people living here. There's a patch of fencing that held some chocobos surely enough, but the wary animals numbered to a handful at best. Cloud was already starting to doubt their chances of renting a few by the looks of them.

As for the people in question, well, they're another story altogether. The ramshackle homes even looked cheerful in comparison, by far.

Cloud literally counted three singular individuals within his immediate visual range, two of which bent over crude graves that were far more carefully placed than the haphazard string of houses in the grove. One was a man and woman; the woman wearing a black veil over her eyes as she bent forth in fervent prayer. The elder gentleman located near her wore farming clothes that looked freshly plucked from the laundry line, his fading muscle line still bulging through the articles.

When Cloud sought out the last person, he noted the large-bellied man bent over some hides with a series of yet more freshly laid skins stung up close by. Expertly, this leather-worker went about his work, shucking off skin from a hanging rabbit with long ease. Deciding that this clearly more energetic man was probably more in the mood to speak than the aforementioned two, Cloud carefully picked his way over to him with the rest of AVALANCHE in tow.

Hearing their conjoined steps, the man paused in his work and looked up, apparently chewing on some sort of gum. "You want somethin'?" he rumbled shortly, interrupting the blond's thoughts. He continued rolling the wad around for a brief second before turning and spitting it off the side like its used tobacco- which it probably was if the blond had to guess.

Cloud watched the wad land nearby, feeling repulsed but doing a far better job of internalizing it than Yuffie behind him. He flapped his lips once next, but then Tifa materialized beside him with a showy flash of demure smiles and winsome wine-eyes. She immediately greeted him as she would a new customer in her bar; with professional respect while being careful not to sound too forcefully cheerful.

"Hello sir. If you don't mind," she greeted. "I don't suppose you know where there's any gas stations nearby, do you?"

The question seemed to take the man by surprise initially, his small eyes flickering between she and the weird caravan around him. "Does it look like we got something like that 'round here? Get lost you Shinra leeches."

"We're not Shinra!" Yuffie barked indignantly, coming out from behind the blond. "We've got nothing to do with those blood-sucking-"

"Hush," Aerith gently chastised.

The man put down the blade he'd just been using, eyeing Cloud with undisguised spite, "What about 'im? If I didn't know better, I'd think he's SOLDIER. He's certainly armed enough to prove it."

Cloud saw the man's apparent distrust and completely understood his plight; seeing as Tifa was of a like mind. He raised both his arms in open surrender, not realizing that the presence of the Buster sword could complicate things. He then said with as much sincerity as he muster, "Ex-SOLDIER, if you must know. I just use my leftover skill nowadays to do work for whoever needs it."

"Jack of all trades, eh? Yeah right," replied the other in an disbelieving snort. He spat again, and right down at Cloud's feet. The younger man merely took it in stride without verbalized complaint, despite his feelings otherwise. "Ain't no sucha thing as a repentant employee," continued the leatherer. "If there were, they would've come to help dig this poor town outta the muck."

Cloud folded his arms, shrugging it off, "Well, I couldn't imagine an openly dressed legitimate Shinra operative would go marching up and asking for something like gas for a dune buggy otherwise."

The other growled something unintelligible briefly. "Dune buggy eh? Ya actually got one of 'em?" The man replied with budding curiosity, but remaining fiercely loyal to his initial impression of the blond. He then planted a scarred hand on his table and leaned on it, eyeing Cloud with renewed suspicion. "You plan on walking to the nearest to the gas station?" he eventually asked.

"If we have to," Cloud dismissively replied. "Given those chocobos aren't something we could rent."

"They're not," The man snorted again, jabbing a quick finger at him. "They belong to this here town's residents, and they're all we've got left for muscle and transportation." He paused here, taking the time to drag a thoughtful hand down his sweat-laden chin as he sized up the rest of the party. Once he spotted the Wutian girl though, he seemed to fully relent and slumped over. He gustily heaved and rubbed his sweaty scalp, shaking his head, "Huh. Wutian, huh?"

"Uh, ye~eah?" Yuffie sniffed in her best 'Duh' voice.

The leatherer nodded then, "-I suppose I'll hafta apologize for my earlier accusation then. If you lot were really Shinra in disguise, then I'd reckon you'd roughed me up by now for the insolence. I was kinda waitin' to see if that woulda happened."

Tifa shook her head, "Why'd you do that? You know you could've been seriously hurt."

The other man shrugged lop-sidedly, seemingly unconcerned with the personal consequence. "Yer right. Not that it matters," he grunted more to himself than anything. "I only really believed you ain't Shinra when I saw her-" he pointed to Yuffie next. "Wutian people aren't really wanted in Shinra nowadays, I hear."

"Racists," Yuffie indignantly puffed, blowing her hair out of her face in stout contempt.

The man chuckled more warmly at that, seemingly finding her retort faintly amusing in some way. After a second in this manner, he then waved them over to a sitting bench he had nearby. He rested in it with a grand sigh, seemingly content with the idea of a distraction. "Said you gots a fuel problem?" he pressed.

"We do sir," Aerith gently added, coming forward to stand on Cloud's other side. "We only wanted to know directions to the nearest gas station or if anybody here had some we can buy. But you said you had nothing left, so-"

"Well little miss," the tanner assured. "I lied about that earlier part about not havin' it. Didn't want a buncha Shinra crooks buying us out like they tried doin' once last year."

"Really?" Tifa blinked.

"Yep. It ain't much, but we can hook you right up. As it happens, I know just the man who can help." He then pointed at the house across from the graveyard, which had a lean-to stuck to the side of it. "Try the Fairs. The guy you want lives in that house right there at the entrance of town. Just knock on the door and tell 'im ol' Bernie sent'cha. Be absolutely sure to mention my name. If ya don't, he'll probably more an' likely to brush ya off like I did at first."

"Gotcha," Cloud nodded.

"Uh... 'Fair'?" Aerith suddenly muttered, bringing the older gentleman's attention back to the earlier name.

The newly named Skinner, Bernie, clapped his hands on his thighs as he mused, "That's right little lady. Let me tell ya; the man of the house is my brother-in-law: Good man, but a touch hot-blooded and not all there when he started goin' gray. If you can stomach a slightly demented old goat with an arrogant superiority complex, he's tolerable. The couple live up to their surname at least, so ya got nothing to worry about. Don't let what I say about the old fart bother you any."

Cloud was already finding it strange that the name 'Fair' was ringing clear warning bells, but it certainly confirmed it when he witnessed the steady drain of color in Aerith's formerly ruddy cheeks. Despite this, he somehow _knew _this connection may in fact jar some abstract memory from the coagulated muck that's supposed to be his brain. He nodded at the tanner, grateful for the help.

"Thanks again," He smiled more wholly. "I promise we'll try to not start any trouble."

"It ain't you startin' it I'm worried about," Bernie chortled. "Just don't get that crack-pot wound up- He _never _shuts up."

Cloud nodded as he turned, flicking his head at the others next. He lead the group to the house and then said to them, "Let me and Tifa talk to this guy. I don't wanna crowd these guys door. Alright?"

"Fine," Barret grunted.

Cloud nodded to Tifa, and then migrated to the door. Not too far from him, he could see Aerith ambling off to the side uncertainly, loitering about like she's apprehensive of something. Cloud usually took signs of her discomfort quite seriously; as it usually gave him and the rest of AVALANCHE some weird sign of trouble yet to come. Still, he really didn't see the use of fear in a run-down town like this. He knocked on the door regardless, moving off to the side.

Almost immediately, the door crept open to reveal a fine-boned, middle-aged woman likely in her mid-forties. Her tied-up hair bun however suggested an internal age almost twice that however; as if long days of stress have whittled the diminutive woman down to the nub. She cautiously sized up the pair, immediately guarding her expression with a vacant mask and clenched jaw. Somehow, Cloud felt like he was causing a lot more anxiety in her with just what he _wore_.

_...Maybe I should consider wearing something that's not obviously Shinra for now on, _he couldn't help deciding.

He politely dipped his head and sheepishly scratched the back, trying to look as meek as he can manage. "Uh, hiya ma'am," he respectfully opened up with. He jerked a thumb to the tanner close by next, "We were just talkin' to Bernie there and he said you guys had some-"

_SLAM._

The gust of air smacked Cloud like somebody just blasted a leaf blower in his face. He and his female compatriot were both left blinking in stupefied wonder for the next moment, suddenly catching the immediate chatter of a pair of voices from inside the little house. The indistinguishable conversation didn't go on for more than half a minute, but Cloud could've swore he heard a thunk following up.

When the door opened up again, a taller, sun-burnt man with almost shock white hair despite his own likely matched age-range regarded them in stern silence. He rolled his squared jaw-line and mashed his lips, clearly agitated by the intrusion. "What'cha want?" he barked woodenly, ice-blue eyes jagged.

Aerith was heard letting out a faint "eep" nearby, but Cloud ignored it for the moment while Tifa asked, "Just some gas, sir. Bernie over there said the Fairs could help?"

"Bernie did?" he replied. He darted a furtive glance at the Skinner, and then leveled it back at Cloud. "You ain't them, then?"

Cloud shook his head at that, "No sir. I'm ex-SOLDIER, but nuthin' else."

The man looked Cloud's duds over, raising a brow. "How long have ya been quittin'?" was the next baffling query.

The blond actually wondered about the time estimate himself, wondering how he'd be able to reciprocate. Somehow, without his knowing it, he ended up muttering, "Past half-a-year" before he even knew it.

_Now why did I say that-?_

In the meantime, Mr. Fair folded his arms and pondered the reply, nodding to it amicably. "If you don't mind my askin', but if you've been done with Shinra for _that _long, why continue wearing that? Yunno that kinda get-up actually scares some folk shit-less. My wife here thought you were a legit SOLDIER," he inquired rather candidly.

Cloud couldn't say much to that, a little shocked by his forwardness. He however dipped his head and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten her."

Tifa was the one who spoke up next, "The thing is, we travel a lot. So we have to travel light." She inclined her head at Cloud, "Pretty much the clothes on our backs now are what we wear half the time. Cloud's old uniform here happens to be easy to move around in, and useful for areas this dangerous."

The man smacked his lips, raising a hand to his jaw and measuring the younger one in cautious scrutiny. "Can't exactly argue with that last bit," he jerkily nodded and opened the door more fully; revealing a cozy interior despite how the house looked on the outside. "Welp, if its gas you want," he continued. "I'll be happy to help. The name's Greg by the way. How much would you be needin'?"

His wary wife stopped right behind him, watchfully looking for anymore signs of alarm in her husband. Her lips were the absolute picture of pencil-thin; a fine line that could've been drawn on for all anyone knew. It was impossible to tell what's going on in her mind.

"A full tank, and hopefully more if it can be managed," Tifa concisely clarified, her eyes darting between she and the husband.

"Think you can afford it?" Mr. Fair went on.

When Tifa nodded again, the man hummed approvingly and smiled rather brightly. His grin was this full, ear-to-ear smirk that's probably used to easily reel in any customers he felt confident in keeping. He unwound his arms and walked outside, leaving the door wide open despite the humidity of the day. He stopped however as he noticed Aerith, who seemed to teeter around the broken fencing some several meters away.

"S'up with her? She shy?" Greg went on to ask, looking a little mollified by the girls' evident discomfort.

Aerith looked up, a hand wandering to her breast in antsy reflex as Cloud explained, "She's just a little uneasy. This place has some weird vibes goin' on with it that kinda freaked her out on our way in."

The older man grunted in a sagely manner, trying to look as welcoming as possible. He smiled heartily at the flower girl, and then bent over a pile of junk hiding underneath the lean-to beside his house. Mr. Fair amicably went on, "Well, its still good to see some new faces here and there once in a while. Nobody ever comes around Gongaga that much anymore. Its like ya said; its not as safe as it used to be."

"Bernie told us the same," Cloud went on, motioning to the others mutely to let them know that's safe to approach the presumably skittish resident.

Mr. Fair shrugged, picking up a gas can and turning it around to look for any damage before judging it adequate and handing it to Cloud. He then bent over and snagged another can, throwing it over his shoulder as he turned to face the rest of the group as they neared. "Well ain't that a sight; there's enough of you to start your own circus. The bunch of ya must've got a pretty decent-sized vehicle, unless you drove here with multiples," he automatically surmised with a humored air.

"One car. Open-air buggy," Barret confirmed as he stopped shy of the older man. "It runs on Diesel."

"Heh, crowded I'd bet. So, do you want to buy a full can from me, alongside what I fill the tank with?" He went on to Barret. "'Cuz the next nearest gas station won't be within another hundred miles of 'ere. And already, a full tank of diesel on its own will ring ya up to 5500 gil."

"_Shit _man. If you wouldn't mind," the taller man affirmed, although he did wince a tad at the price.

Mr. Fair smiled winsomely at that, his brows however betrayed his shared sentiment on end sum. "Even 6000 gil then. Sorry about the price," he added with a quick scratch to his scalp.

Barret stomped over and handed the wiry man the aforementioned amount, closing up their thinning wallet shared amongst them. It would have to last them until they neared Cosmo Canyon in the meantime. "Its fine," the dark-skinned man did say. "I know the feelin'. Corel's like that too."

"I'd reckon," Greg nodded.

"If you don't mind my asking," Tifa interjected hesitantly, picking up on the conversation's earlier topic. "Why stay in such an openly hostile land poisoned by mako radiation? This kind of living can't be healthy."

"Eh," Greg shrugged rather carelessly. "Its dangerous, sure, but there's some benefits to livin' in a place like this. The animals are all kinds of weird, but they don't bother ya so long as you're not alone. If anything, I think its 'cuz of them Shinra doesn't ever bother with us."

The man seemed pretty comfortable explaining it, but Cloud inwardly knew that the man was concealing his real reason to staying in a region like this: The citizens of Gongaga were simply too poor to move into another town and start anew; and they clearly had a sentimental attachment to their damaged home. It really wasn't that different from Corel on that note, and that's something Cloud saw dawn on Barret's face too.

Corel and Gongaga had a lot more in common than was originally perceived.

"Eh... excuse me," bespoke a timid, wispy murmur.

Mr. Fair's wife had apparently crept out of their little home at some point during their conversation, her hands neatly folded into each other. The woman had her head ducked in apprehensive deference, her green eyes downcast. She blinked too many times, her jaw clenching rather tightly.

Cloud turned around and was about to fold his arms, but decided the gesture too defensive looking and kept his arms relaxed at his sides. "Something you need, ma'am?" he gently inquired.

Mrs. Fair glanced at him, noted his easy demeanor, and relaxed her own shoulders thankfully. Her smile however was a fleeting wisp of whatever it once was, "I... I know you said you're no longer in Shinra... but I needed to ask you something. I don't think I'd sleep quite right if I didn't."

Mr. Fair was giving his wife this strained expression, like her query would ultimately chase the group out of Gongaga. Either that, or he was inevitably afraid of the repercussions of whatever this query may carry with it. "Dear," he mouthed lowly. "Yunno he said its been half a year..."

"I _know_," she sighed.

Cloud blinked, raising a thin blond brow in the process. He tilted his head, nodding at her to continue.

At this, Mrs. Fair finally pressed on with, "I-I wanted to know. SOLDIER is a small group, with few members, correct?"

"Yeah," Cloud confirmed. "That's right."

"I know the chances are slim, but... I don't suppose you've met my son at all?" she went on to ask. Her head sagged closer to her chest as she added, "He's, well... I know this much: he's loud and a bit of a flirt, if I'm remembering him right. I haven't seen him in ten years though... and he hasn't written to us in five. _Five _whole years!" She threaded her hands together more tightly, her lip trembling, "His name's Zack Fair. Probably tall? Blue eyes?"

"Zack?" Cloud mouthed under his breath, suddenly feeling his gut coil tightly.

_That name again._

Suddenly, another, albeit louder and more distinctive "OH!" was heard, all eyes immediately drawn to the flower girl in question. The jerking movement of her hands covering her mouth certainly betrayed her familiarity; her carved emeralds wider and more alert than a rabbit's frightened gaze. She lifted a trembling finger once, and then set both her shaking limbs at her sides.

Cloud noticed from the corner of his peripherals Tifa abruptly freezing in place, gustily drawing in a shuddering breath. He wondered why, but put it aside as he eyed Aerith. On the side, he wondered why he's suddenly recalling his own familiarity with the name, but not quite putting a finger on it. His stomach was a painful mess of slop; and already his head was beset with a new headache he'd have to nurse once they got back to the buggy.

In the meantime, Aerith was already darting a rather strange, bereaved look of her own at her feet; her lips quivering. "I... You..." she started, her voice a faint whisper. "You're actually his-"

The Fairs were already upon her like vultures to an abandoned corpse; Greg dropping his gas can in the process.

"You _know _him?" Mrs. Fair desperately beseeched, her thin hands lifting up as if to physically grasp at the possible portent. "You knew our son?"

Aerith mashed her lips once in passing, and then grimly nodded in confirmation.

Greg stopped just shy of the girl, all the while his wife shakily placed her hands upon the younger woman's shoulders. "Please," Mrs. Fair breathed just between them. "Please... have you any idea of where he is? How long ago have you seen him? Is he okay?"

Greg gingerly took the shivering hands of his wife off of the over-whelmed girl, pulling Mrs. Fair closer to himself. He blinked steadily, his expression weirdly intense. "You," he wondered out loud. "Tell me if I'm wrong, but I don't reckon you're that girl he'd been goin' on about-? In his last letter I mean."

The Ancient clammed up at this point, but carefully met their matched gazes head-on. At this point, everyone else looking onto the scene was silent; a little more interested in the trio's shared acquaintance of this unknown man.

Finally, Aerith did confirm in a tremulous whisper, "Yes. I... I knew him."

Both Fairs were suddenly looking desperately between she and themselves in turn; their expressions bright for one fleeting moment and then fading to dismal expectation. "You haven't seen him either, have you?" Greg carefully urged, his icy eyes losing all signs of their previous light.

The flower girl's own expression matched theirs' for one terse moment; and then suddenly she shut her eyes as if to blot out the inevitable pain she'd no doubt cause them. She pursed her lips for the billionth time that day, her hands folding in front of her in a tight vice.

"I haven't seen him in years," she finally admitted, her voice infinitely smaller and smaller with each crushing syllable. "He just... he went on an assignment, and I sent him letters... and I sent him some calls... But he never actually replied back-"

The girl couldn't say much more than that; not that the words were needed. The three stood in bloated silence, forgetful of the others outside their little circle.

Greg blinked as if stumped, and then turned to his shivering wife. One hand stayed around her shoulders, but then he's reaching out to Aerith and gently clasping a shoulder of her own. He saw the anguish on her face, and tried to banish it with a firm but gentle clasp.

Aerith couldn't help her gaze at the man, seeing the confusion clash with the cold expectancy of her words. Both she and the whole rest of the party found it strange that the man seemed to be taking this so well, so of course Aerith had to ask. "You... aren't you upset?" she murmured, almost disbelieving.

Greg sighed helplessly; his shoulders bobbing jerkily, "Can't say I didn't expect somethin' like this. But I didn't wanna ask. And to be _real _honest, a part of me was afraid of knowin'." His hand left Aerith's shoulder, falling once again upon his smaller wife. His next smile was certainly the faulty type as he said, "Its kinda funny; every time we ever got some wind of our son, its always old news. And the fact's no one seen 'im in years... I dunno what to think. I'd like to hope he's lying low somewheres; finding some sense and quittin' Shinra be the smartest thing he's ever done."

The man let out a harsh laugh that's more a harrumph than anything, "Well... if my boy's like me when I was his age, he wouldn't have wanted to keep a lady friend waitin'; especially somebody as kind as you. If he _did _quit Shinra, he'd gone straight back to you in Midgar. But if he ran into some sorta trouble, he wouldn't have wanted to bring it around you or us for that matter. He'd avoid us if Shinra's as bad about desertions as I hear."

Aerith's gaze blanched; as if she actually didn't consider this possibility of her old boyfriend actually running into danger and not wanting to bring it to her. And seeing as this Zack never did come home, odds were that Mr. Fair's words may hold some semblance of truth within them.

Greg looked over at Cloud in the meantime, "I'm surprised to say the least, boy. Haven't you ever run into any Shinra employees hopin' to drag ya back?"

Cloud folded his arms, cocking his head incrementally, "None of 'em ever really said. Although, they're certainly violent about it if you're real hot shit like Sephiroth or somethin'."

_Although, he does have a point, _Cloud suddenly realized. _How come I was never personally targeted by people like the Turks? Do they not care about me because Sephiroth's around? _

He frowned again, _Is this Zack truly a big deal then? If he truly was SOLDIER and deserted, Shinra would've came after him, right? Then that means he would've been really tough. But if that's true, how come I've never heard of him? Why can't I remember-?_

Cloud suddenly winced; his head began that insidious ringing again without warning. He fought the need to duck his head and briefly closed his eyes against the bright light of day; trying to keep himself looking as unaffected as possible. He thought he'd glimpsed Tifa flash him a concerned glance; but hoped its his imagination.

_C'mon. shake it off._

Cait Sith flicked his tail nearby, giving Cloud something to anchor himself to. "Aye. Shinra don't much like traitors," he confirmed. "They usually use the Turks to keep tabs on ya; trying to find a chance to either recruit ya back or- Or-" The cat stopped, making a rather pointed show of dragging his gloved digits across his furry throat.

Suddenly, Mrs. Fair burst out in tears, and Cait Sith was instantly repentant of his reply. Yuffie folded her arms next to him, snorting at the information shared, "Nice goin' hairball. Look at what you did to her! She's worried enough as it is."

Cait Sith ducked his head, ears pinning to his scalp. "I'm sorry," he mewled. "I didn't mean to frighten the lass. But if its any consolation, I wouldn't think a decent SOLDIER would let himself get dragged down so easy. Surely your son's in hiding?"

"Still not helping," Red whispered to him discreetly.

Aerith however couldn't help but mirror the rueful gesture, as if really absorbing the information for the first time ever since she first learned of this Zack's disappearance. Still, Cloud couldn't hope but notice her swift glance at himself; and then he briefly wondered if the girl was still sure of his connection to this unknown SOLDIER.

Greg heaved, "Welp, I guess outta you all, its fair to say we're the only ones with any real 'updated' info. Not that it helps." He turned to Aerith, moving a hand to the back of his head as he weighed it himself, "Earlier this year, some Shinra employee in a tux showed up; saying she's familiar with our son. She told us he was just fine, at the time. She didn't stay long though; she gots a phone call, and then parted ways. We didn't get anything since."

"A girl in a tux?" Aerith pressed.

"Yeah. Dainty little thing," Greg leveled a hand around his wife's height. "I was kinda shocked she's in Shinra at all with how tiny she was. Coulda swore she's barely more than a child. She's this tall, prob'by your age, and had wavy hair-"

"Brown eyes? Copper hair?" Cloud suddenly blurted out, remembering the girl himself. The man was taking a firm interest in the conversation himself by now; seeing as the name _Zack Fair _kept rattling around his skull. Moreover, Aerith's clear interest in the pursuit of this guy was something worth noting; as this man seemed very important to her indeed.

"Did she ever say her name?" Aerith's eyes actually narrowed here.

Mrs. Fair regained some of her composure to an extent, keeping the majority of her weight rested against her husband. She sniffed, "She did. I could swore she said Susie or Sissie or-"

"_Cissnei_!" Aerith and Cloud said in unison.

"Yep! That's the one," Greg nodded. "Wait a tic- you lot know her?"

Cloud snorted and waved cocked a hip, "We ain't friends; that's for sure."

"Turks are trouble," Tifa said warningly to the couple. "And she happens to be one."

Mrs. Fair jumped, her hands leaping to own mouth in turn, "Great Minerva's bosom! If she were a Turk, then she coulda been _lookin' for our son!_"

Greg blinked furiously too many times, than slapped a hand to his head, "_Freakin' flamin' Hells! _You're right! He could've gotten into trouble if that's true!"

Aerith jumped and planted her hands onto her lips, her eyes lashing a fire Cloud never expected to see. He certainly knew that the next time the group ever saw Cissnei again, this girl will definitely have her interrogation readied. That said, the Ancient passed a steady glance over Cloud himself, keeping his gaze for a long moment. Its certainly long enough to betray her inner intention; and the blond couldn't be surer of what it could be.

_I guess Sephiroth will be getting the back-seat whenever we see the Turks again_, Cloud quickly surmised. _Or at least that one in particular._

Greg couldn't help but pat his worried wife, shushing her and holding her as he walked her back to the house. He turned to the others in the meantime, shrugging at them helplessly. "I'll be right back," he told them. "Gimme a minute."

"Take your time," Tifa encouraged him as the pair disappeared into the house.

In the silence that followed, the group huddled back together; Barret already growling with impatience. Red's tail lashed a couple of times; while Yuffie grumped as loudly as she could.

"I swear! Turks are _never _up to any good!" She snorted contemptuously.

Barret snorted, "Don't matter. I know this may be cold and outta the blue, but I wanna know; who 'ere wants to stay over-night anyways? Not that I want to really." He folded his ginormous arms, "Lookit the facts; its gettin' real late in the day, and you heard da man: Its dangerous out here in this region; and there ain't no gas station- and therefore a town- for anudder hundred miles or so!"

"Is there even an inn here?" Tifa pressed slowly.

Red lifted his muzzle at that, "We could ask around. Although, I wouldn't think a town like this wouldn't at least have something like an inn if they hope to run any sort of business. We can just ask Mr. Fair when he comes back out."

There were nods amongst them all, the group separating after the shared consensus. They waited until Mr. Fair emerged again moments later next; the man apologizing for the tangents and offering a large smile when AVALANCHE confirmed their interest in staying for the night. He turned to Aerith and gently encouraged her to come swing by whenever she wanted to during their stay here; wishing to know more about the girl his son had seemed so taken with. Aerith blushed a bit, but couldn't turn down the offer in the end; as was her gentle nature.

It would be later on that day however, after Cloud had helped Greg and Barret carry the fuel to their buggy that he noticed Tifa's continually stranger behavior. He wanted to approach her and ask, but kept losing sight of her more often than not. Cloud quickly guessed that Tifa was trying to drop hints about not being bothered; and she wasn't feeling particularly up for any conversations yet. Having remembered Aerith's words from the other night more readily though, Cloud decided to fix his game plan and resolved to corner her at a later interval.

After all, he certainly didn't miss her suspicious reaction towards Zack's name. Maybe she really didn't know who he was, but Cloud's gut certainly told him otherwise. And if Tifa somehow really did know, how far does her knowledge of him extend to? And why would she hide it? Aerith was formerly this man's girlfriend, and the two women seemed close: So why hasn't the name come up between them sooner? And now that it had, what was Tifa hiding from not just Cloud, but Aerith too?

He had to back track and reel in the spiraling chaos that was his thoughts. Tifa wasn't so _secretive_; he'd just told Aerith this the other night for crying out loud. Surely Tifa didn't say anything merely because it wasn't important or detrimental to their mission? In hindsight, it _really _wasn't; seeing as Sephiroth and his assumed clones were all homicidal threats to the world at large.

Still, one thing's for certain: Cloud couldn't help thinking it, but somehow, it felt like Tifa was floating further and further from his reach with every passing day. This side, he quickly decided that Aerith's earlier words should be heeded.

Its high-time they had that little talk.


	10. Locked Heart

~777~

Zack couldn't help his agitated state; growing increasingly frustrated with each incremental step he took towards Gongaga's outer edges.

Beside him, Cissnei continued to review her messages and correspondence; all the while Vincent loomed somewhere off to his left. The older man had an unnerving tendency to move as silently as the grave; his burgundy eyes constantly searching the forest around them for any threats. He sometimes slipped from sight without their knowing; but then promptly returned as quickly as it happened and nodding to the duo as if to confirm the lack of enemies. Like seriously, he's _too _good at that.

The three managed to arrive in the region not several minutes prior; carefully picking their way through the mako-doused foliage for the junction spot Tseng said to meet him at. Apparently, he's only able to rendezvous with them because his escort assignment coincidentally brought him to the region; and even then it would be a relatively brief report. This was also one of Tseng's last field missions; so physically meeting him _now _instead of flying all the way back to Midgar was most the optimal choice.

Sending 'detailed' reports through Cissnei's phone wasn't smart; as the device was likely tapped. Zack was paranoid of his own; and it wouldn't manage a proper document anyways. Cissnei had to physically _write out _her report; and pass it off to Tseng once they saw him. Anymore questions they could've had would have to be answered the next time they headed back to Midgar.

This aside, Cissnei had informed Zack on the way here that Tseng would be somewhat tardy; considering the _company _he's been forced to keep: Ditching someone like Scarlet was no easy task; and he'd need both Reno and Rude to do the job. Knowing Tseng's luck however, Scarlet probably wanted to get into his pants just long enough to sink her draconic claws into him- And then throw his spent carcass aside after she's done digging up enough dirt to sack him with. Zack hoped he was wrong though; making up weirdly exaggerated hypothetical scenarios where there weren't any.

It wasn't a favorable turn of events for the increasingly irritated Zack, but it couldn't be helped. The temptation to run and see his parents however loomed; especially since Zack hasn't seen them in about ten or so years. He hasn't written to them since around the time he started dating Aerith some near several years back and on; going on about how cute the girl was and how much his mom and dad would love her.

This aside, he uncomfortably pulled at the rim of his hood; the dank heat and humidity as close as breath ghosting across bare flesh. He slipped it off after another moment, despite Cissnei throwing him a stern glance regarding his breach in protocol: He wasn't supposed to remove his hood while they're out in a public place, but Zack assured the Turk that its in fact safe so long as Vincent kept doing what he's doing. He also had cloak, so even if somebody did walk up, he'd be able to hide his appearance in a flash. The thickness of the brush would certainly give them enough ample warning anyways.

Cissnei eventually paused and raised a closed fist; motioning for the three to stop. Zack and Vincent waited while she finished sending whatever message she'd quickly compiled; and then she put the phone in her breast pocket. She smiled at them, nodded, and sat down on a log just off the animal trail they'd been using.

"Okay," she began, waving off the hot air with breathy exhaustion. "This is the spot."

"You sure?" Zack inquired, his respirator mask amplifying his heavy exhalations.

Cissnei nodded and gestured. "Might as well catch a breather while we're at it. Elena's coming to greet us first and foremost. She's going to bring us to a spot blanketed by mako energy; a place the animals themselves usually avoid that'll throw off anybody following us. Tseng will meet us after he gathers some supplies from his ride. As it is, Reno and Rude went to relieve Tseng of his current _burden_," she smirked with false humor.

"Tell me again why Elena coming to greet us is necessary?" Zack inquired, folding his arms while shifting weight to one leg.

Cissnei smiled her familiar cryptic grin at that, "She just wanted to see Vincent for herself first; probably to size up how dangerous he is. Or she probably feels like she's doing something important. Maybe both?" The girl shook her head. "Elena's pretty green; almost entirely new to the Shinra uniform in general. Still, she takes her job so seriously its practically unhealthy. If I didn't know any better though, I'd think she has a crush on Tseng."

The girl actually laughed out-right at that, leaving Zack to tentatively smile back in return. However, he still couldn't help his slight concern over a girl he hasn't even properly met; having been unconscious when Elena first glimpsed him. He hoped she didn't take her job _so seriously _that it would actually put her in danger as it had with Cissnei numerous times in the past. Its bad enough the Turks division as a whole was growing on him; and yet his concern now stretched over the many and not just the few like how it originally was.

The ex-SOLDIER couldn't help his sigh and plopped down; not giving a hot damn if he fell into an ant mound at this point. The three of them had been flying almost nonstop since Nibelheim; having gone yet another whole day without sleep.

_Not that Vince needs anymore of it, _Zack couldn't help chuckling to himself.

Still, Cissnei's running on pure fumes at this point: She'd technically been awake since _before_ Zack's collapse at the manor; and that's roughly _two days ago_. However, the group had to hastily get to Gongaga before Tseng left the vicinity; and the rush had been costly for her. If anything; the girl was Zack's more immediate concern right now:

This freaking iron-woman had been awake some twelve or so hours even before that incident in the Shinra manor. So if you had to tack on today, Cissnei had been awake almost _**three **_straight days in a row. Like seriously; how often did she do this anyways? Granted, Cissnei power-napped in the back seat of their ride on the way here after Zack beseeched her to rest; so Cissnei was a little better, but not yet one-hundred percent. A nap could only do so much after all; besides a bunch Shinra-grade caffeine patches she had in the glove box.

Once Cissnei napped long enough to reclaim some semblance of sobriety, she resumed her driver's position and reluctantly admitted that once they've seen to Tseng, they'll rest for the night in some hotel- Or sleep in the bird itself as far as Zack's concerned. Cissnei was far too tired to keep piloting the damn thing as she was.

On one, whole, worrisome moment about half-way over; Zack could've swore he actually saw Cissnei _nod off while piloting _the bird over the Belted river. Thankfully, she managed to jerk herself awake swiftly enough to correct her ambling path; but the tiny notch to the Northeast was definitely more than enough for Zack and Vincent to jointly force the girl to land and get some rest. Still, this was something Zack would forever keep etched into memory; and its effectively left him paranoid of flying for the rest of his life. That, and its certainly left him more than just a little concerned for the tiny Turk girl's health.

He found himself scrutinizing Cissnei more often than not even now; making sure his companion didn't teeter over in the process. He'd stayed close to her side since they left the helicopter; just enough so that should she indeed fall over from exhaustion, he'd catch her in a heartbeat. He warily took in her dark-ringed eyes and designer bags dangling beneath them; her unbrushed, coppery hair a wild _riot _of scraggly strands in this damp heat. Her uniform was still somehow relatively unmarred, but it did have a few wrinkles here and there from her lying in it. Sleeping in that tux must've been uncomfortable for her; although she hasn't said anything about it.

_She tries so hard, _he thought to himself. _Too hard, even. _

Zack propped a hand under his chin, drawing up his knees and yawning widely. Blinking off tears, he rolled his shoulders and felt his eyes sag shut once or twice in mere boredom.

_One day, I'll find some way to help the Turks too; right after Cloud and Aerith are safe, _he pondered next. _I don't want to see the people I call my friends keep running themselves ragged for me anymore- or stretch themselves out too thin for this stupid company. I don't care if the Turks say they like their jobs-_

His blue eyes sharpened in appearance, his free hand curling into a fist without his comrades seeing it. _I'm not letting Cissnei do this to herself anymore. Like seriously; fuck this job. The Turks say this job is all they know; and yet they're reduced to being little more than tools that can be broken and replaced in just a blink. I'm not letting these people stay behind while I go happily traipsing off with Cloud and Aerith into a happy ending. I'm not leaving one more soul behind. Not __**one**__. Whether you like it or not, _He mentally swore to the girl across from him. _I'm taking you and Tseng, and whoever else you count as family, with me. _

He felt Vincent's eyes on him suddenly, and incrementally inched his head to the right just to see the caped man standing some short meter or two away. The ex-Turk was leaning casually against a rotting tree; his deep, claret eyes steadily sizing up the younger man as if he'd mutually felt Zack's inner disquiet. His words still resonated with Zack even two days later; reminding him that he wouldn't be in this fight alone.

_Vincent will help, _he nodded. _And we'll all come out the better for it, like he said. _

Not a full minute after this proclamation, the bracken crumbled and creaked; birds twittering away in blind outrage. Suddenly, a tiny body came tumbling out of the prickle-bob bush; topped with platinum-blond hair and muttering expletives in a furious mutter. The obviously female figure groaned and sat up next, dusting herself off as she got to her clumsy feet.

"Ow!" She groaned. "God how I _hate _this place!"

Cissnei smirked in her typical way, bobbing her head in fatigued greeting. "Hello to you too, Elena," she started amicably.

The other girl primly straightened out her tux, puffing out her lower lip like she just stepped in a particularly large, stinking mound of animal excreta. She turned towards Cissnei and folded her arms, her crystalline eyes suddenly zeroing in towards Vincent in frightened surprise. "Wait," she began, her voice a lowered quaver. "Whose this? I thought you said it's just gonna be you and Garm?"

Cissnei's smile retained its tightened facade, "And I said I found something rather interesting too. Did I not?"

Elena's lips flapped open, gaping like a beached fish all the while. She shook her head and planted her hands on her hips, hissing like an angry cat. "You'd said some _thing_\- Not some _one_! You never said it was gonna be some _guy_!" She almost spat. "I thought project Septimus was supposed to be a _covert _operation?"

The copper-haired girl only shrugged mildly at this, her expression deeply resigned. She seemed all too disconnected from the world around her, her mocha eyes vacant of any inflection whatsoever. Cissnei's work-mask was almost always like this, and its something Zack's seen a million times in years past. However, Zack certainly knew enough _now _that its a clear sign of her haggard exhaustion; and he definitely learned to hate the sight of it.

_How many times has she worn this mask around me and I just haven't noticed it? _He wondered while fighting the need to fold his arms. He continued to look between one girl to the other each time they spoke in turn; trying to catch some of the tics he's always glossed over before.

Cissnei continued in the meantime, "Let's just say Vincent here is an 'interested' party. And it doesn't look like it, but he's actually one of us."

"Vincent, huh?" Elena furrowed her brows, crossing her arms in skeptical bewilderment. "You mean he's a Turk, right?"

"Ex-Turk," Vincent suddenly spoke up, his natural growl taking the girl abruptly off-guard.

"Eh- I- How can he be 'ex'?" Elena queried, eye-balling him in suspicious wariness. "Its not like our jobs are something we could just-"

Cissnei smoothly interjected before the slightly younger girl can finish; leaving Zack to wonder if she's cutting her off on purpose for some mysterious reason. "Look, are you going to bring us to Tseng or not?" she pressed, her gaze sharpening in the smallest notches. "We don't have the time to argue detail."

Elena kept flashing incredulous glances between Cissnei and the enigmatic Vincent; likely finding him as intimidating as Zack had the first moments he laid eyes on him. Begrudgingly, she tersely nodded and waved them over her shoulder, scoffing in the process. "Fine. I'll take you to him," she grumped.

The trio wanly followed in her wake, Zack staying rather close to Cissnei's proximity. Maybe he _was _acting pretty paranoid about it, but he couldn't help his doting amount of concern over her. Cissnei's growing exhaustion was strongly evident by now; rendering her steps leaden and clumsy as she fumbled through the bracken. To her credit, she managed to shake herself awake to finish clearing the worse of the trail; but then her head bobbed a bit closer to her chest as she yawned.

Zack shot to her side, deliberately bumping his arm with hers and getting within her line of view so they could briefly see eye-to-eye. She jolted and passed him a surprised glance, but only smiled quaintly and waved him off. Pretty much, the whole conversation was _Are you okay _and _I'm fine. Stop fussing over me_ in just a span of just a few breaths.

After another few minutes in heavy silence, Elena paused and took out her own phone; sending another quick message of her own. She flipped it closed after a minute and eyed the mako-soaked clearing around them; twitching her nose at the sight of the weird amount of limey colors staining the natural peacock greens of the leaves. The splotches were akin to open sores; a festering wound that couldn't quite properly scab over. The exposed patches of dirt beneath them had a twinge of green that's more on the bright side; only really noticeable if the canopy and darkness level were adequate.

Zack clenched his jaw, suddenly vowing to do something about Gongaga in the very near-future. Its bad enough the reactor exploded and took Minerva knows _how _many people and relatives he had; but add that to the fact that Shinra did absolutely _nothing _to help them- Its no wonder his already sour mood was plunging further south.

_Great. Got another rage boner to work out_, he almost snarled out loud. _Shinra's given me enough shit to deal with as it is: Between Sephiroth's birth, Cloud's health, Aerith's endangered life, the Turks' loss of human rights, the cover-up in Nibelheim, and this-? The list goes on- And I haven't even included the bit about Angeal, Genesis and Vincent yet!_

Zack jolted when he heard some twigs snap somewhere; unconsciously noticing Vincent draw a quick hand to his right thigh where his gun was holstered. However, the ex-SOLDIER relaxed when he saw a familiar, tilak-dotted face break through the foliage. He slumped his shoulders, raising a lazy hand to Vincent to indicate his ease.

"Heya," Zack jerked his head, grinning underneath the mask. He actually lowered his red-tinted goggles here, his respirator following suit, "Been a while."

Tseng huffed and stepped into the clearing; taking out a handkerchief and lightly dabbing his brow. Much to the surprise of the trio- and especially Zack, Tseng was wearing a large side-strap pouch dangling off of his left hip; all the while he carried a very ordinary looking suit-case in his right hand. Zack found the absurd desire to simply laugh out-right; thinking the man looked more like a secretary than ever. He stifled it, but damn if he wasn't tempted to out-right belly-laugh at his face.

Tseng turned to Elena and nodded; mutely signaling something with his eyes. Elena flapped an indignant, albeit silent protest, but relented and uttered small "Yes sir" in the end. She moved past him in a deliberately slow motion, tossing Vincent a squint over her shoulder as she departed.

Once she's gone, Tseng turned to the others, sized them up, and twitched the sides of his stiff lips in nuance. He's happy to see them, but was clearly unsure of what to make of the red-cloaked stranger. After a minute, he finally said, "Alright, I'll bite: I'm guessing this man is important to our mission in some way?"

Cissnei stepped forward and handed Tseng a hastily hand-written report; the same one she'd lost sleep over. "Yes sir. There's that, and everything else we could possibly want on Sephiroth," she said with a more wakeful smirk.

Tseng's lips moved another tad, his obsidian stare hardening. He set aside the suitcase and took the papers in hand, sifting through the contents appreciatively. He looked back up after a few quick, cursory seconds, "A mission success then. Good. And the health report?"

"Here," Cissnei took the small pack of papers from his hands and flipped it around. "All updates on Zack's health are included too. Observations on AVALANCHE's members are located on this page here." She flipped another pack with a paper clip separating it from the rest, holding up a vial of blackened ash next. She added, "Alongside the monthly inspection of the old place, and a sample of the beast that was on the ship on the way here."

Tseng nodded, thanking Cissnei with his eyes as he turned over the duo's entire two weeks worth of work. Zack in the meantime blinked a few times and tilted his head; not noticing Cissnei had been actually supervising him _that _carefully. He felt like he should say something about it, but decided against it.

As for Tseng, he noticed her casual use of Zack's real name, darting a dead-pan stare between she and Vincent. "I assume he knows?" he entreated tonelessly.

"Yes sir. He's with us," was her reply.

Tseng blinked once, his eyes narrowing slightly, "And your name?"

"Vincent Valentine," the elder man replied while crossing his arms. "Formerly of the Administrative Department of Research, Shinra Manufacturing Company. A.K.A: Tri-Barrel. Last assignment was body-guard duty and general supervision of the newest project proposed by the Gast research cell in Nibelheim. Was personally requested by Dr. Gast Faremis and assigned to Dr. Grimmoire Valentine's former lab-assistant, pupil, and successor Dr. Lucrecia L. Crescent. I believe the Op code was: 3 dash Hypo dash J dash S type Gen."

The amount of consistent, concise, although out-dated information certainly seemed to blow the Turk's leader's unflappable mind: Tseng's stern expression actually fluttered away here; his hardened gaze breaking all composure to expose his inner shock for once. He almost dropped the papers Cissnei gave him; warily approaching Vincent and passing him another once-over as if to confirm the individual standing there.

He then asked with some semblance of his earlier mask, "Last known supervisor?"

Vincent dipped his head, his gaze shrouded by the dim lighting thanks to the thick foliage surrounding them. "...'There's no personal identity when surrounded by the flock. They are his eyes and wings; 'they' becomes 'we' as we over-see the world below as one body unified'," he began in measured calm. "-'No leader, no hierarchy; just the mission's success when we fly together'."

This enigmatic reply seemed to be more than enough for Tseng; whose eyes actually rounded in unveiled shock. Zack had no earthly idea what this answer meant, or if its somehow a code of some kind; but it had the desired effect Tseng seemed to be searching for.

"Great Minerva be good to us all," he breathed. He actually earnestly _smiled _here; shocking both Zack and his female companion. He dipped his head to Vincent and replied with the utmost deference, "'As one unified, 'I' becomes 'we'. The mission's success matters; but never always blindly follow orders to the last letter'."

Vincent grunted in approval, blinking steadily as he digested the seemingly appropriate reply. Then, he actually _chuckled _before he added, "Glaive and Shuriken told me about the Turks and what you do nowadays; but at least the core of it remains in most part- despite the president's influence in later years."

_Holy shit. How are these guys are actually __**connecting **__right now? _Zack felt his jaw unhinge briefly. Cissnei was matching his expression with her own too; her hand actually darting to her temple once.

Whatever the case, the Turk leader's expression set back to his default one; his eyes stern and manner politely withdrawn. He folded his hands behind his back, turning towards Zack and Cissnei next. "You know, I actually don't remember assigning you two a missing persons' search," he jerked his shoulders in what could've passed as mis-begotten humor. "But this? For once, I think its fair to say you two managed to somehow do something not even my most senior men can do: You've impressed me."

Tseng nodded to Zack and Cissnei, smiling more minutely here, "Even the Turks' former superiors couldn't find Vincent here when he was reported M.I.A decades ago and promptly erased from the records. What I don't understand is how..." He looked back the other man, his slate colored eyes flinty. "-Well, you do look rather _young_, all things considered."

"I believe the explanations are in Cissnei's report," Vincent gently reminded him. "And if I have to shorten it even further just to save you time; let's say Hojo and I had a disagreement on what's considered 'safe' for my charge."

Tseng actually managed to frown more deeply at that.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't have a lot of time to be here, yes?" Vincent inclined with a slight jerk of his head.

Tseng sighed, going to pinch the flesh underneath the tilak. "That you're correct," he replied rather grimly. "I'm afraid I only have enough time to hand you your next assignment and tell you why you're doing it. As it is, I have to explain it because of how utterly _ridiculous _it is."

The weird stresses in the previous statement was more than enough to pique the two's interest; Zack and Cissnei jointly shooting each other matched expressions of confusion. Tseng meanwhile briefly went through the reports and skimmed them with a speed that Zack found impossible to glean anything of. However, its just enough so that when Tseng got to the health report, his frown deepened _still _further. At this rate, Zack inwardly commented that his face may end up stuck like that.

"You know, I suppose this mission is quite apt," Tseng said next, his mouth thinning. "Considering what I'm seeing here."

"What do you mean?" Cissnei wondered.

Tseng spent an extra few seconds sizing up the papers regarding Zack's health, his eyes staying glued to the last pages in particular. He heaved and turned, giving Zack a hard stare that quickly unsettled him. "I see that the explanations are in order; time constraints aside," he began in a troubled monotone. "Now Cissnei, are you sure that Zack's episode here fits into the time slot I'm seeing?"

_Is he talking about me passing out a couple days ago? _Zack gave his female companion a suspicious stare of his own, folding his arms in consternation.

Cissnei simply ignored him, "Yes sir. It began around 2:50 AM two days ago, and ended around 3:05 PM the same night. He woke up normally around nine the next day, feeling himself according to Vincent."

Tseng's naturally pasty complexion actually managed to twinge to a slightly lighter color; and its something that could've been missed had Zack not known him. The man's mouth was paper-thin now, "And here I thought I was assigning this mission for no good reason. I told Hendel it might not be necessary, but he kept reiterating the importance of it." He faced them fully, tucking the papers under his arm. "As it happens," he started in a familiar drone that usually did well to conceal his emotions. "I'm sure you're well aware of the fact that a spy was inserted into AVALANCHE by now, right?"

The casual shift in topic was odd admittedly, but aggravating too. "You already went and done that?" Zack almost shouted a little too loudly. He couldn't help it; the idea of spying on his friends or familiars made him ill, even though he was well aware of it being a plausibility before his departure to Nibelheim.

Tseng merely plowed forward, "Yes. While you and Cissnei were busy researching Sephiroth, I was able to convince Reeve to lend the Turks a hand. I told him exactly what Septimus wanted me to relay-" He was looking at Cissnei here, "The Turks are looking for a way to find Hojo, and safely grant Aerith sanctuary from Shinra's prying hands. I deliberately neglected to mention anything of Garm; as that should continue to remain to ourselves for now. I _did _however tell Reeve of the sect's goals without giving much else away; although I know he's more than convinced of the Septimus Sect's existence; if not suspicious of it already."

"Why would you do that? Did Septimus really say its okay?" Cissnei actually blurted, her earlier sleepiness temporarily forgotten.

Tseng nodded, "He did. Thankfully though, Reeve almost _eagerly_ rallied to the cause; especially in the aftermath of the last meeting- and that I'll get to later." He waved it off, "Anyways, I told Reeve that I wanted access to the information Cait Sith feeds him on the daily regarding AVALANCHE's movements; focusing primarily on the welfare of Cloud and Aerith in particular. He was curious about this and admitted this much, but the information he sought is in a drive I passed onto him from Septimus himself.

"As to what this has to do with your next assignment; well, I get regular feedback from Cait Sith directly to my phone," Tseng continued, his slate eyes locking back onto Zack. He even pulled it out, flipping the phone open to reveal a thread with purple texts from a five digit number that's likely Cait's serial identification. "-And he told me this: That Cloud has, as of two days ago, had a epileptic fit at the _same exact time _Zack had: From its start at 2:50, to precisely 3:05 that same night. Although, he didn't get up from it until three in the afternoon the following day."

Cissnei's exhaustion was completely gone now; while Vincent's already brooding gaze darkened several notches. Zack however didn't know what the heck to say; his gut doing loopy somersaults that left him nauseous.

Tseng sighed then, revealing his own exhaustion in turn, "I know this may sound crazy, but my instincts tell me this is no coincidence. If I had to guess, I'd think that whatever Hojo did to Cloud certainly ties in with Zack's condition in ways beyond the obvious." His expression became increasingly more solemn then, his eyes slipping over to Zack in particular, "Speaking of which, Hendel was also able to finishing testing your blood. I'd like to say the tests came back negative, but its unfortunately the opposite."

"Great. More good news," Zack sarcastically barked with the exaggerated clap of his hands to imitate mock excitement.

The man kept his gaze level with Zack's, "Your blood came back with a much higher concentration of J-cells and more than _thrice _the recommended mako dosage for even average SOLDIERs- and of course trace amounts of Sephiroth's cells too."

"Whoop. Hold up, rewind," Zack gesticulated, suddenly darting over to Tseng's personal space and getting right into his face. "I'm gonna hafta to stop you right there- What's this bit you sayin' about 'J-cell's? Like, its not J as in _Jenova_, right? It can't totally be the same thing as the J-class _**stem**_ cells used in SOLDIER enhancements, ri~ight-?" he deliberately drawled at the end.

Tseng blinked, and then frowned again in sincere confusion, "You really didn't know about the existing J-cells in your body?"

Zack gaped, and then blew a particularly fat rasberry there, "Fuck _NO_, man! Its the fact that you're acting like its completely freakin' normal for SOLDIER to have _Jenova-freaking-cells _in their bodies! Its bad enough Sephiroth got that crap injected into him as an _unborn fetus_\- but now you're telling me its something that's been done _all the time_? Like, are you freakin' kidding me? You're tellin' me that J-cells from the SOLDIER program are the same exact things that made _the G and S projects?_"

The man had the graces to shut his mouth and sigh, his eyes now gloomier than before. "Its true," he admitted. "Every SOLDIER initiate is given a tiny amount of J-cells and a mako shower to counteract any adverse effects it could have on the body. Ever since Sephiroth showed what he could do on the battle-field at age twelve- yes Zack, he was _twelve _when Hojo decided to give him a 'trial run'- The president got excited by the prospective advantages it granted Sephiroth. He wanted a whole army of men like him, even though they showed no inclination to have an Ancient's powers. It didn't matter to him; these new army dogs had the power to turn Shinra into something new and more powerful with the right care. So the first SOLDIER were made in the wake of Sephiroth's first victories in the Wutai war."

This horrifying, albeit severely edited and trimmed down summary certainly managed to shock not only Zack, but _Vincent _in the process; whose perpetual calm seemed unshakable at first glance. This said, Zack couldn't help wondering about how Vincent was internally taking this information- And quickly surmised _not well _when he saw the man's pitch brows sink to newer lows than before. His usual pragmatic stare was suddenly something akin to feral; Zack certainly guessing that Vincent now had a whole other reason as to why he wanted to give Hojo his 'regards'.

_To call Hojo a 'dead man walking' would be the understatement of the century_, Zack wondered. _And I guess that confirms my crazy idea of Hojo throwing a kid Sephiroth to the dogs to see if his research got its 'results'. Freaking sicko._

Tseng noticed the shift in the mood, and decided to tactfully abate it to an extent as he asked, "Whatever the case, SOLDIER were told this the day they're promoted into the division; right after the psych evals and physical tests to see if they're capable. So surely this hasn't completely caught you unawares-? Its not like J-cells were an omitted detail."

Zack suddenly felt like a child whose being scolded for doing something naughty even though no one warned him about it. He flapped his gums and blinked, feeling his blood boil with an abhorrent, searing anger he wasn't sure he's familiar with. "Yeah well," he defensively bit with more venom than expected. "I'd think I remember that; but the doc never fully elaborated where the J-cells came from; nor did he say what the J was abbreviated for. He certainly never said 'Jenova' outright!" He huffed resignedly, "I think I remember asking him what they were and him sayin' its some sorta physical 'enhancer' that's supposed to make bodies respond to outside stimuli quicker- kinda like steroids?"

"And that's _all _he said?" Cissnei inquired.

Zack nodded, feeling his spirits sink to new lows. "I'm starting to think he lied about the whole 'stem' part," he harrumphed.

Tseng frowned at him for the tenth time these last few minutes, his gaze hard. "I suppose that might be true," he relented.

Zack bristled, his arms returning to their folded position from earlier, "You bet your ass it is!And now, hearing this on top of everything else-" He clenched his jaw. "Man. So Jenova cells in SOLDIER are what gave us our abilities in the first place... I guess we're all no more lab-rats than Sephiroth, Angeal or Genesis. And now, you're telling me I have more than _three times _the normal amount of this shit in my blood-stream, right?"

Tseng hung his own head, sighing with every ounce of his own exasperation in turn. "That's correct. Hendel sent you off with mako vials to help your body continue fighting the effects of sickness J-cells have on the body naturally; as is normal of any member of SOLDIER. Sadly, mako showers are required because without them, your body will become susceptible to various side-effects- said 'effects' being signs of a common but somewhat debilitating ailment called J-Cell Toxicosis."

"How freaking _loverly _does that sound?" Zack sardonically cackled, shaking his head. He then snorted, "Funny how they never mentioned that kinda crap in the papers when you're first promoted."

The Turks said nothing to this.

Zack sighed resignedly, throwing back his head and closing his eyes in serious consideration of all this. "Okay then. Define 'debilitating'," he air-quoted. "Like, what does this toxic-whatever do anyways?"

Tseng shrugged at him, "Do you really want to know what the _full _list of these effects are? Its rather extensive."

"Hit me."

"Very well then. The list can vary from person to person, but has a predictable pattern once identified in some individuals. Thankfully, it can be fought off with the right procedures too," The man began. "Still, I can't actually quite say for certain what Cloud might have. However, as what we believe is common, its one of the following-"

Tseng began to tick them off from here, sounding very much like a warning label on some drug bottle, "-Nausea, migraines, shaking or loss of control over your limbs, delirium, hallucinations, fainting spells, mood swings, Tinnitus, more rarely Thrombocytopenia; and finally- It being worse case that we know of; your natural rejuvenation is encumbered or stops entirely. Sometimes, these varying effects combine in nasty ways; and the SOLDIER afflicted is forced to submit to a shower and some vacation time. If all else fails, he's isolated and hospitalized _immediately_."

Tseng mosied around the grove once, his expression bland, "-And these are the more widely known, more often researched effects commonly found in individuals that haven't recently taken their mako showers. I'm sure you've no doubt experienced some of these yourself? To minor extent."

Zack stopped pacing, standing there looking mighty pissed and mighty discombobulated for forgetting the rare times he actually skimped out on the 'check-ups'. Admittedly, he remembered Angeal shouting at him for the times he did miss them early on in his third or second class days; and experiencing something like being nauseous and fainting once. But it happened no more than one or two times _tops _in that time, and it wasn't even that bad in all honesty.

Earlier on this year however; while he'd been in the wilds with Cloud, Zack actually remembered fainting a couple of times but chalked it up to stress and exhaustion. He started doing that only _after _he left the Cosmo areas; and that's a couple of weeks into his running. When he went to Banora and found himself surrounded by spouts of mako energy inside the ruins though, he didn't notice the sudden absence of the headaches and general nausea he'd been plagued with. These symptoms had been happening increasingly; compounded with his lack of sleep and care over Cloud. As it was, his exposure to the energy inside the ruins had actually inadvertently cured him for the time being.

But now? Even Zack knew this much; he had a similar spell two days ago, and the occasional ringing here and there. Headaches came a little more rarely, but he largely ignored it whenever it happens. However, he'd been taking his mako vials recently; as Hendel prescribed. Its an unconscious habit ingrained into his training: So why he's only reacting to the presence of J-cells in his body _now _was the more worrisome factor.

Next to him, he heard Vincent hum with something akin to a realization. Zack and Cissnei both turned to him, seeing his deep stare finally brighten with understanding. "That explains it," Vincent breathed as he felt everyone's stares land upon himself. "Remember what I about Lucrecia's condition after she got the Jenova cells injected into her?"

"Holy shit. She had the same symptoms!" Zack finally noticed, throwing a fist into the opposing hand in dawning comprehension.

The Turk leader raised a thin brow, but didn't press for details. He shrugged off the side comment; knowing he's likely to see it in Cissnei's report anyways. He decidedly moved the convo on then. "Zack, by chance, you didn't run out or _forget _you had the mako vials on you, did you?" Tseng went on to ask in a cautious tone.

"Well, yeah, I've been taking 'em..." Zack sighed, "And now that you're mentioning it, I was about to run out-" _But they're not working, _was the next words he was about to bring up.

Tseng was already handing Zack a small pouch that clinked softly; pulling it out from the bag he had on his hip. "Then you're going to need these; and they're in _much _higher doses since you're actually reacting to the J-cells nowadays," He informed him. "Hendel managed to see that the current ones you have might not be enough. Either that, or something else Hojo did complicated the delicate equilibrium your body naturally acclimated to. Let's hope the latter isn't the case. Take them as you see directed on the bottles. If you're still experiencing these symptoms later on though, I want you to let me know A.S.A.P; or send a text to Hendel."

He stopped, took a breath, and said after some thought, "You know what? Do _both. _And make sure to add details; like what time it happened, how long it lasted, or how you felt _exactly _during the episode. We're still doing everything we can to understand Jenova's genetic influence; so every little bit helps."

Zack reluctantly took the vials with a grimace, baring his teeth as he weighed the weirdly heavy bag. "So, d'ya think Cloud needs this kinda thing too?" he went on to ask.

"I've no doubt," Tseng replied with a faint dip in the head, his hands returning to a folding position behind his back. "Cloud hasn't had the time to train his body to the specs needed to help establish this fragile balance: Your own training regimen in SOLDIER was meant to help your body adapt far faster than the showers by themselves; but for Cloud to go without this same, basic routine... Well, let's say there's only so much mako energy can do to help until it starts to do the opposite."

Zack recalled Cloud's vegetative state; wondering if the younger man had been given such exorbitant amounts of the stuff for this reason: Since Cloud had no liberty to pace his body as Zack had in his earliest days in SOLDIER, the enormous amount of J-cells and dizzying quantities of mako energy both compounded within him; leaving him dead from the neck up for a very long time. Once Cloud finally started to get on the move more often, he started to get a little better; even though it took him months to do so. Being active helped combat the weird inebriative effects these factors had on the body naturally. It was like working a cool-down regimen from a decent exercise.

"Now then," Tseng's voice snapped Zack back to the present. The other man approached Cissnei and passed her the suitcase he'd seem to forget having, "This all brings me back to what I need you to do next: In this special carrier, there's a list of instructions; a few empty bottles, and a few filled with a strong tranquilizer- its enough to knock out a full-grown bull Dual-horn altogether," he popped the case opened next, exposing the contents to all three. "Hopefully, you won't have to use all the vials; seeing as one or two may suffice."

"Wait wait wait-" Even Cissnei interrupted him this time, shaking her head and passing Tseng a disbelieving stare. "You're seriously not asking us to... I mean-"

"No _FREAKING _way!" Zack actually shouted for real this time, realizing it at the same time as she. "You can't be serious?!"

Tseng withdrew his hands and folded them behind his back again. "Yes Zack," he heaved. "I _am _serious: I need you to extract some of Cloud's blood and get it to me for your next-"

_"WHAT!?" _

Tseng blinked like he's trying to shake off a headache of his own; his mouth a flat, emotionless line. He huffed and went on like he hadn't been interrupted. "-For your next mission," he finished with a note of irritation. "And when you've done with that, you're going to turn this dial here-" He motioned to a button with a number setting to nine. "-Set this to 7 when you've retrieved the blood; as the case is a specialized device meant to carry fragile samples like this. It'll keep it fresh long enough for you to get it back to Hendel in Midgar. Cissnei, you're in charge of its care."

Cissnei was as slack-jawed as Zack, the duo flashing matched expressions of doubt and trace amounts of apprehension between them. Vincent's expression merely looked bored, like this job might be a piece of cake.

"How the heck are we gonna do _that_?" Zack eventually babbled out, somewhat wondering what the heck was going on in Vincent's head; or Tseng's for that matter. "Its not like Cloud's some wimp-"

"I know. However, I believe you can surprise Cloud and take the blood from him easily enough. Vincent here can help you catch him alone, or you can use the Chronos materia you have," Tseng specified. "I wouldn't think the job too difficult for _you _of all people, Zack. You know Cloud and his compatriots better than anyone in the Turks right now- despite Cait Sith's help. And now that I'm mentioning him, he may even be able to help you set up a situation where you can catch Cloud alone."

"Do we _really _have to have it...?" Cissnei inquired, lifting a hand to her head and threading it through her coppery tangle. She actually looked somewhat apprehensive of this task for once; even though she must've had tougher jobs before. "What's the real reasoning for this? I mean, what's the long term goal of having a sample of _Cloud's blood _of all things?"

Tseng met all of their stares head-on, "As I've said: Hendel needs to study Cloud's blood for his own health benefit to see what Jenova's cells are doing to him; as well as compare it to Zack's in order to better understand what Hojo's been doing. If he finds the same trend in him as he found in Zack, we may be able to figure out how to fight and contain the J-cell contamination in both of you- Maybe even start treating it in earnest." He breathed out heavily next, "Its strange enough that both you and Cloud passed out at the same exact time. And according to Cait Sith, Cloud seems to posses similar symptoms as you do but they're usually glossed over or dismissed due to outside stresses. If anything, Cloud's ignoring his _own _signs of illness and going on like nothing's wrong."

Zack folded his arms and clenched his jaw, his expression dark.

"Worse yet," Tseng went on. His slate gaze slipped to the ground briefly, his expression grimly cemented into permanent shape. "-Hendel found out that the errant growth of untreated J-cells in your body is the reason why you haven't finished naturally healing off your battle in the Midgar wastes: Your cellular regeneration has slowed to a crawl; your bone marrow isn't making as much blood as it used too. What wouldn't scar before will do so now." He paused to let this sink in, and then added in a brittle monotone, "And, I know this may come as a shock to you, but if this continues to keep up and you stopped healing overall; it'll start to destabilize whatever little your body recovered- Maybe even _reverse _the healing effect you once had. By then, your condition will be comparable to Genesis' before his desertion-"

"You mean degradation?" Cissnei couldn't keep the worry from her tone.

Tseng didn't confirm nor deny the statement out-right, "Now I wouldn't quite say that; seeing as this is strictly _theoretical_. Zack isn't an unstable copy nor is he built like one; however, his strength has certainly diminished in noticeable increments ever since his escape from Nibelheim. Unfortunately, Genesis displayed somewhat similar signs before the degradation process began in earnest. A bad sign, if nothing else." Tseng sighed at this, watching the expressions of his comrades collectively flicker in reaction to this.

"However," he continued, trying to uplift their spirits in some part. "There's good news amidst all this: This should only be _**temporary**_; nothing like degradation can happen so long as Zack keeps taking the mako vials as prescribed. His body can also re-adapt to the presence of these changes with the same exercises he used in SOLDIER; considering his body is already familiar with their presence. In time, he may even naturally heal off the affliction completely. Cloud will the one who'll need the research's results afterward; seeing as he never joined SOLDIER and reaped its conditioning program."

_...So getting his blood will help Hendel treat him in the long run; while I'll be alright in due time._

Zack still couldn't help his self-conscious need to look away, feeling rather sensitive about this portent. He couldn't help but feel for Cloud; seeing as Hojo dismissed Zack as a failure early on in the experimentation. _If he'd actually focused on me in earnest though, _he couldn't help thinking. _I could've wound up like Vincent- no longer human, or able to recognize myself in some way. But Cloud... how bad off is he? Does he run the same exact risk of degradation as me?_

"Eh, Tseng, I gotta ask," Zack suddenly entreated.

"Hm?"

The ex-SOLDIER cocked his head, shifting weight to one leg, "Assuming Hojo really _did _give Cloud the same procedure he'd been giving me, he'd have Sephiroth cells in 'im too, right?" At the Turk's nod, he went on, "'Kay then. So, what I found out is that Sephiroth, although a part of the whole Jenova thing as project 'G', isn't someone who'll degrade. He's like, 'perfect' or something. If this is true, then maybe the possibility of degradation isn't like, _actually _possible, right? How does that even work anyways? Where did you and the whack-job shut-in even get that idea anyhow?"

"Its not Sephiroth's cells in your body that'll allow degradation," Tseng clarified, folding his hands behind his back. "But the increased amount of _Jenova's_ that'll cause gradual harm."

Zack heard Vincent hum nearby; the man likely recalling Lucrecia's own condition during her pregnancy. Its safe to say that some answers were coming together for him.

"For some mysterious reason," Tseng went on. "Sephiroth's health always seemed to be stable, despite having these same cells in his body. However, anyone else outside of him whose ever been exposed to them never seems to be physically stable in one way or another. Its something even Hojo's never fully understood- and that's why he always ran tests on every member of SOLDIER." His stare seemed to focus onto something inward rather than what's in front of him, "Every SOLDIER, every other branch of the Jenova project, even _you _has always beheld trace amounts of these illnesses in your bodies. Sephiroth just happens to be completely fool-proof to it; even though his health was never treated any differently than yours or anyone else's."

"...Okay, weird. So then, if that's the case; how come Cloud doesn't come off as heavily affected as me nowadays? Like, healing-wise," he couldn't help but tentatively ask.

"That's the part we don't know for sure either," Tseng sighed. "We want to know why Cloud isn't hindered by any newly acquired injuries of his own and why you don't seem to be getting any better very fast. The mission simply becomes more important then. Keep in mind, I did say J-cells affect other individuals a little differently each time a case crops up. The results never vary beyond a certain norm though, thankfully enough."

Zack dipped his head, shaking it next. Cissnei was seen briefly nudging his arm, her morose expression matching his.

Suddenly, Tseng's own expression lightened marginally; although really not by much. "I almost forgot," he tactfully added to help remove the increasingly heavier air. "I believe you and Cissnei should have access to Cait Sith's updates as well. I want you to make sure to use _only_ Cissnei's phone on this; but text Cait's serial number and send it to this-" he took out a another piece of paper from his breast pocket, passing it to Zack without waiting for a reply. "-You'll be able to receive updates from Cait Sith as well. Don't worry about any information leaks; as all of it is only going through Reeve and us. Cait Sith will expect messages from Cissnei's number, but _that's it_\- No other numbers are expected."

"So we'll be able to know the best moment to strike," Cissnei murmured thoughtfully.

"Exactly," Tseng nodded. He dipped his head again, his gaze guarded, "When you're done, I once again reiterate you return to Turk head-quarters in Midgar, _covertly_. By then, we'd not only be done hammering out the mission to help Aerith, but better understand how to help Cloud, and see if Sephiroth's actually alive and what he's after." The Turk shrugged noncommittally, "We still don't know if any of the Sephiroth sightings we get are legit, but I know we'll have something soon. If we're really lucky, we'll probably be able to scratch up Hojo's whereabouts too."

Zack certainly didn't miss the ever-so subtle slant of Vincent's narrowing eyes.

"Now, I'm sad to say that I'm out of time," Tseng proceeded with. "As it is, I have something else I must do before I meet up with Scarlet. I know I haven't fully explained all the happenings in Shinra yet, but I'm on a time-crunch. Once you finish this next job though, I'll be happy to answer whatever questions you may have left," he pronounced while neutrally meeting Zack's gaze.

The ex-SOLDIER nodded, a little happier that Tseng seemed to remember his earlier promise to finish explaining himself. "Sorry you have to go back to baby-sitting a real monster," he tried to casually joke, but not feeling quite up to it anymore. He's feeling pretty drained at this point; but he couldn't _imagine _how tired Cissnei must be. The girl didn't have SOLDIER training or stamina; and seemed ready to topple over on the spot. On the side, the news regarding his health has certainly left both individuals wiped of their energy for the day. Zack wouldn't mind a bed himself at this point.

Tseng meanwhile shrugged helplessly. "Can't be helped," he added with a mirthless twist of the lips. He wanly smiled at them next, his eyes lingering on Zack the longest, "Well, at least its not me who has to deal with her much as of today; seeing as I'm in a more favorable position as of late. However, I was only able to meet with you two now because I told Scarlet the half-truth: I had to meet Cissnei and get a report on Nibelheim and whether or not you've seen Hojo. If anyone asks you, that's the story you stick too. Now, as for you, Zack," Tseng redirected. "Do keep yourself safe. Stay hidden, and whatever you do, _don't_-"

"-Recklessly throw myself into fights," Zack shrugged. "I already know."

"Good boy," Tseng smirked. "Now, I'll see you all back at HQ soon. I'll be letting Septimus know the good news." He turned towards Vincent and bowed somewhat at the waist, meeting the man's gaze head-on. "Perhaps I'm being too trusting, but you're free to come and go as you like. I'm not going to ask you to rejoin the Turks if you don't want to. But still, its good to have an extra set of experienced hands on the job; seeing as Zack here has a tendency to bite off more than he can chew."

Zack rolled his eyes.

Tseng nodded at the older man in the meantime, seemingly thankful for his presence. "Vincent," he respectfully added, smiling a touch more when the other returned the gesture. And without waiting for another word in edgewise, Tseng turned and left as he came; disappearing into the bracken without so much as another glance over his shoulder.

In the stifling silence that followed in that little clearing, nobody mustered the courage to break it; instead waiting a moment to digest the information exchanged. Once the reverie was eventually broken by some unspoken force though, the stifling humidity suddenly became two times denser; and the gravity of the choked earth heavier. The sounds of the distant animals almost died altogether.

Cissnei took the lead out by gently pulling on Zack's limp wrist, the grip uncertain in some part. Her grasp was usually this solid vice that promised security whenever she and Zack cloaked. At those times the gesture was merely a necessity; a tactical means to avoid losing each other. But now, the gesture was a security method of a _different _nature; the girl's grip containing the smallest of quavers.

Zack couldn't help his own tightening grip on the straps of the mako-vial pouch in-turn; his eyes downcast. His antsy mind lead him back to the new job at hand: Tseng may have offered a couple of easy, albeit obvious ways to get it done, but Zack couldn't help feeling that it wouldn't be so simple. His life was _never _that easy to begin with; and his gut certainly told him this much. After all, he'd bitten enough bullets to know _that_.

He fought the need to suddenly whimper; moving his respirator plate back in place and gritting his teeth beneath it. It wasn't for himself that he silently wept for; but for Cloud instead. If Zack's body was _this _fucked up, he couldn't imagine what Hendel would find once this mission got done.

Feeling like a lost child in desperate need of a security blanket, he moved his wrist free of Cissnei's grip; only to fully match his palm with hers. He entwined his fingers and squeezed faintly, feeling his heart loosen its constricting binds when she minutely returned the gesture.

* * *

~777~

Tifa couldn't say anything. She _wouldn't _say anything.

Its hard to tell where the lines between the words 'would' and 'could' were drawn; seeing as said line between them was so thread-thin. However, she knew enough that she felt she _can't _say anything because her own memory was unreliable to say the least. And, she _won't _say anything until she's absolutely sure that something can be done.

Cloud's 'condition' wasn't totally obvious, but it wasn't exactly obscured either; if one knew what to look for. Tifa could see the man was suffering somehow somewhere; but again, it wasn't easy to see immediately. You'd have to hang around the guy long enough to start seeing the signs. He reacted to some topics and situations rather queerly for example; especially considering Tifa's known him long enough to start noticing it.

Back in Midgar, some few weeks back to be exact; Tifa went down to the train station to wait for Jesse after she went on bomb run. Just as she arrived at the station, she found the a small crowd of people bent over a body slumped against the platform. She would've dismissed this as some slum drunk who'd floundered his way down from the plates above; seeing as it happened fairly often. However, one would be hard-pressed to ignore a man whose armed to the teeth and covered in blood from head to toe. That said, still she quickly identified him even though he'd clearly been through Hell and back.

And its from that first once-over, Tifa knew something was immediately _wrong_.

It wasn't the ridiculous amount of old blood stuck to him; nor the weird, strangely tangible, pungent odor of _death _that surrounded him in great curtains- Its his face that finally threw her of- or more specifically, his expressions. And then there's his sword- She knew it wasn't his. Or at least, she's pretty _sure _it wasn't.

When Cloud managed to find his feet and recognized Tifa in a weird, floundering way, his gaze flitted between vacant exhaustion to abject shock and something else she couldn't quite identify. He kept squinting, like the lighting was too bright or something. Nonetheless, he acted like nothing was wrong despite being caked in blood. He merely skirted her concerns with collected dismissal; even though Tifa asked where the blood came from and if he's okay. The comments threw her off altogether; and it inspired her to drag him to the hideout so she could freely inspect the wrongness floating around him. She didn't ask about the sword; seeing as she was getting the feeling that he wouldn't be able to supply a direct answer anyways.

On another note, Nibelheim wasn't something she figured she could remember well; seeing as the trauma of that day left most of her memory blurry at best. The clearest parts of it stood in jagged relief though; and those were the parts that contained her dying father and her searing hatred of Shinra being burned into her _soul_.

However, its not to say she unfaithfully recalled the details of the whole week in general; seeing as there wasn't anything horrifying or life-changing about Sephiroth's stay until the last day. She's able to remember that week fairly clearly actually. But the parts that she felt she did know, contradicted what Cloud knew. And that's what bugged her. Which brought her back to his sword... a blade she felt belonged to somebody else in particular and not Cloud himself.

Cloud said he'd arrived in Nibelheim with Sephiroth in tow to see what the problem was with the reactor; but she felt this fact clashed with what her memory, although faint, already accepted as reality. Cloud's claim wasn't wholly inaccurate though either; seeing as he called upon certain details that both he and Tifa shared: Like the fall from the rope bridge between the mountain peaks- So that must've been the truth. There's in fact a _lot _of stuff that both he and she recalled; despite tiny differences.

However, the _biggest _difference amongst them all was the **name **of the SOLDIER that walked by Tifa's side that one trek up the mountain. She certainly remembered a taller, black-haired man standing hardly _a few measly feet _from her on a clear day almost the whole week away from Sephiroth's purge. There's no way her trauma blurred that picture in particular; but she had no way to prove if it was Cloud or... someone else.

It seems Zack's name was indeed the one name that's escaped her for quite some time; a minor detail she logged away when she tried to bury the worst of her memories. She'd only heard it a couple of times; not really caring about getting to know him when he (assuming that it _was_ him) came to Nibelheim those years ago. However, to hear his parents drudge it up alongside Aerith, she couldn't help wondering whose memory was truly in the wrong here.

Cloud said he'd been there, but his memory contradicted hers there. Tifa could've swore she met someone other than him at that time. This in mind, Zack's parents said they haven't heard from him since then; with Aerith claiming the same. As for this Zack person, she couldn't help wondering if this man stopped his correspondence with his own family and girlfriend for some unforeseeable reason. He hadn't contacted these good people in _five _years- and the time frame matched the date of Nibelheim's burning eerily enough.

So, if her memory matched up with the date the Fairs and Aerith last heard from him; two completely independent parties who knew nothing of each other beyond paper, then was Cloud somehow a _liar _of all things? He sounded so convincing though, and he managed a lot of the other details _correctly_. But then, was Tifa's memories truly that unreliable in that respect? She actually did come off the worse for wear between the two when she suffered that horrible injury.

She reasonably couldn't remember that last day so well because of it: The puckered scar stretched from her right hip to her ribs; stopping across the top of her left breast just beneath the collar bone. Now _that _pain wasn't something she'll ever forget. But unfortunately, it meant that the shock from that blow had effectively wiped most of the details of that last day.

Tifa in the meantime sighed, walking around Gongaga's perimeter while struggling to clear her thoughts after meeting Zack's parents some short while earlier. The setting sun left her enough time to capitalize on a walk at least; all the while giving Tifa a visual cue of when she should start heading back.

_...Maybe I should've talked to this Zack, _Tifa actually thought in passing once earlier on that day; thinking she would've been better able to commit him to memory had she actually indulged the idea. However, her timidness kept her from speaking up; seeing as besides being SOLDIER, he looked a _little _intimidating on the side: Especially with his large frame, sizable scar on his left cheek, arctic eyes, and humongous broad-sword that was clearly heavier than she was; or maybe even himself for all she knew.

Suddenly, she stopped in place; realizing that had this SOLDIER had actually _been _Cloud, she wouldn't have felt so shy. There's that, and the fact she's able to recall these details about him so _clearly_. It horrendously baffled her; leaving her to wonder if her feelings were somehow truer than her memory. Cloud wasn't some stranger to keep at arm's length after all; so why would Tifa have felt so apprehensive otherwise? He wasn't scary or imposing like this Zack person. So, it _had _to be Zack she tried so hard to avoid; not so much Cloud due to his familiarity.

On the side; Zack's parents said they met a Turk who claimed he was alright just _months _ago. But if this was somehow true, why would he not bother contacting Aerith and his parents anyway? Was he a true deserter who quit after Nibelheim? Did he simply want to avoid bringing the danger to Aerith like his father said? If he was even remotely _half _as decent as his parents and apparently kind enough to be Aerith's boyfriend of all things, then surely he's an alright person to be around, despite appearances. This said, surely this conjecture matched up with his motivation to avoid his loved ones should he have quit?

Unless of course, the _alternative _held true instead- The Turks must've known about him due to reputation; and the fact that he hung around Aerith; whom they observed constantly had to be considered. So, should he have actually deserted Shinra, he would've had a blazing _**bull's-eye **_painted onto his back. And, this thought lead to Tifa assuming he could've very well _died _just recently...

_I'm over-thinking it. The Turks couldn't possibly be strong enough to take down somebody like that; should that have even happened. Right?_

She remembered her brawl with the Turks back on the other continent: The Turks weren't slouches in combat; although they didn't specialize in it. From a distance, maybe its possible they could've had a chance to bring Zack (or any other SOLDIER member) down. Turks don't play on a level playing field; they're tactical ops that worked more like opportunists. Its possible they'd only engage if they earnestly believed in their chances of victory.

Tifa sighed, knowing she'd long since deviated from her original topic of worry. She resumed walking, feeling her thoughts weigh her down with every step she took.

On another note, what the heck happened to Cloud in those five years, and how did he know of the events of a mission he probably wasn't actually present for? How did he know what Zack knew? Was the Buster sword Cloud carried the same blade Zack owned? Did Zack truly die off recently, or had the burning done him in? Was Tifa truly not remembering it properly?

_Just what the flipping Hells was going on __**anyway**__?!_

Tifa pursed her lip as she considered what she's already reviewed: That sword belonged to Zack Fair, didn't it? So surely Cloud somehow knew Zack himself in some way? Or was his memory as faulty as Tifa's, if not magically worse off-? And if this same Zack was Aerith's boyfriend and was connected to this sword somehow, then maybe the flower girl recognized it?

_There. That's a link to him I can hinge on. I could ask her about him and ascertain whether she actually saw the Buster sword before Cloud got it. And then, maybe I can compare what I know with what I __**thought **__I knew and see if Cloud's correct, ultimately._

_But then, assuming he's actually __**wrong **__somehow... what will I do with Cloud then? Correct him with a memory even I can't properly place? How could I hope to help him?_

Tifa stopped outside of the reactor's crater, not realizing she'd been walking towards its direction this whole time. She rested a hand on the tree she stood next to, stupefied at the realization. She blinked away her thoughts; deciding that maybe she should stay closer to the town so to avoid the mutated animals wandering around here. To be fair, she shouldn't be out here to begin with. It still didn't stop her from doing it however.

Originally, she only went to clear her head and avoid her friends just long enough to try to get her head screwed on right; but her aimless roundabout wanderings seemed to have taken her awareness of the environment with it. Its reasonably dangerous out here though; _especially _with the night creeping ever closer.

Fantastic. She almost got lost in dark, Shinra-patrolled woods less than hours after seeing the Turks here. She really needed to stop spacing out.

Tifa turned on her heel and headed back into the woods; following the dirt path back towards the darkened Gongaga. She wound up following the same trail as before, carefully watching her feet and where they landed. Often, she'd look up and take in her surroundings; straining her senses as any decent vigilant hunter. With adroit artifice, she was able to find the main path back to the village and stuck to it; stopping only when she heard a creek close by.

The rush of running water was certainly appealing; seeing as Tifa felt beleaguered by her own rampant mental wanderings. The promise of fresh, relatively untainted water was simply to good to pass up. That said, she ambled off the main path and crept back into a another branching animal trail in order to find it; making a mental note of the area around her and watching for any distinguishing land-marks. She thought she heard creaks on occasion, but figured it belonged to the native fauna haunting Gongaga's perimeters.

_Hopefully._

Tifa still made careful note of them as well, feeling her hackles rise without actually realizing it; at first. Still, she managed a small, gentle smile when she found the creek; the width no more than a car length and only ankle high. She was on her knees and splashing fresh water all over her sweat-slick body; happy to finally rinse off the worries of her day.

She had some questions internally logged, and a way for her to glean information while they continued their journey to find Sephiroth. Tifa had a way _forward_; and that's what mattered. So why did she feel so anxious?

"Never figured you the brooding type, miss Lockhart."

The formal address to her name in this modulated drone certainly caught Tifa's attention; and immediately she's turning around to meet the voice's owner head-on. She curled her fists and stood at the ready, loosening her muscles in her shoulders in battle-ready expectation. She felt her breath hitch once.

Tseng of the Turks stood across from her, his hands folded neatly behind his back. His expression was a polite, distant mask that betrayed nothing of his internal emotions; looking very much like a disinterested store manager interviewing a new and eager applicant. He kept his posture relaxed, standing a decent few meters from Tifa while looking as non-threatening as possible. Still, his calm was a _very _bad sign.

"Out for a pleasant stroll, I take it?" Tseng amicably inquired.

Tifa had no patience for him; already she's remembering his many crimes and the damage wrought from his decisions back in Midgar. She reflexively bared her teeth and felt her curled fists tighten minimally; anger scorching at her nerves kept barely in check with a well-honed sense of control.

_"Keep your mind and ears clear. Don't leap into the fight. Look around you."_

She kept her master's words in mind as she scowled at the older man, a little surprised to see him here in all actuality- perhaps an ironic sign. She drew a slow breath, watching Tseng for any suspicious movements while straining her ears for any signs of the other Turks. After all, they're usually not alone.

_Like a pack of jackals._

"How long have you been following me?" Tifa bit acrimoniously. _And how the heck did he do it? I didn't see any sign of him this whole time._

Tseng let out the smallest of sighs; apparently he'd half-expected Tifa to leap at him by now. He dipped his head, his slate-gaze circumspect. "Not long, I assure you," he in-toned respectfully. "I only just managed to catch you leaving the reactor area. In hind-sight, I suppose meeting you here alone was fortuitous."

"Right. Then what're you doing here?" Tifa snarled next, fighting back the tremor in her raised arms.

"My current assignment, as you can probably surmise," Tseng shrugged, his shoulders bobbing lazily. His easy demeanor was already making Tifa nervous; as it meant he's likely evaluated his odds of winning against her in a fight. His own eyes kept roving hers evenly, despite the annoying amount of darkness. Twilight was a difficult time to be fighting in; and something Tifa would rather not do by herself in near total isolation in a place like Gongaga on top of that. Thankfully, Tseng seemed to favor conversation at the moment, and its something Tifa wouldn't disagree with until she knew for _sure _there weren't any other Turks around.

In the meantime, Tseng continued with, "Can't say more than that I'm afraid. You've no idea what I had to go through in order to get here." His next breach in stoic calm was to let out this sardonic smirk Tifa assumed was forced, "I had to keep Reno, Rude _and _Elena quite busy today as it is. Asking them to cover for me tonight was probably too much. I'll have to give them some vacation time when I get back- Scarlet's not an easy woman to fool or distract."

"Right, so I'm to assume you wanted to 'informally' catch one of us out here behind her back? Real believable," Tifa snorted, astounded at the amount of information he was dropping. Which was probably a lie if she was reading this right. _Or he's trying to lead me on, _she assumed next.

Tseng jerked his head to one side in another casual dismissal of her sarcasm, "Believe what you want. For me, trying to get a hold of any one of you in AVALANCHE has been proving difficult for me today. You should appreciate the amount of effort I've put forth to get here. Although-" He rolled his shoulders again, "I was hoping to pass along a message to Aerith more specifically. I suppose you'll have to do- seeing as I won't get another chance for quite some time."

The martial artist went on, suddenly feeling more of her inner ire stir to wakefulness. "Ha! Like you want me to believe that you're not here to simply _abduct _Aerith again? Or better yet-" Tifa felt a smile curl cruelly at her lips. "To meet with some of the other Turks following us around to get some Intel, right? What's their names... I think I heard someone say, 'Shuriken' and 'Glaive'-"

The oldest Turk didn't deny it, but his microscopic twitch in his brow was enough to let Tifa know she'd somehow caught him off guard. After a moment spent digesting this shock, he asked with no trace of his surprise, "Lemme guess: Elena said that?"

"Yup. You should probably watch who you're hiring," Tifa almost chuckled.

The other turned his head, mumbling something inaudible under his breath. When he returned his attention to the woman again, a rogue hand had wandered to his forehead and pinched the flesh beneath the characteristic dot. "Great Minerva, that girl... Ah well, I suppose that's part of the truth," he finally admitted, sighing quite heavily in the process. "Although, its not the original reason for my being here. I'm too busy nowadays to run jobs personally a lot of the time. That said-" He meandered over to the side of path, his expression bland, "I wanted Reno to run this for me, but I know you and him don't quite see eye-to-eye."

Tifa's snort was more like the huff of an irritated Corel mountain lion, not at all repentant of her action against the aforementioned Turk. "What, you worried I'd put him in the hospital again?" she half-challenged, still trying to feel this strange situation out.

Tseng's eyes lingered on a flower bush nearby, his eyes even darker than usual in the dim gloom. He scoffed somewhat, "I want to say that's part of it; especially since he's only _recently _recovered after what you and Cloud single-handedly did to him." He shook his head, "However, my being here stems from natural curiosity; not personal concern for a man whose able to take care of himself... That said, since you're here, I've actually wanted to talk to _you _about a couple of things anyways."

Tifa barked out a sarcastic laugh, decidedly borrowing one of Cloud's favorite set of words. "Not interested," she told him, shifting her weight again in a deliberate show of her willingness to defend herself. "You might as well save yourself the trouble and get the Hell outta here before the rest of us actually find you."

Tseng said nothing to defend himself, which suited Tifa just fine. Instead, he went on with, "Look. If I was worried for my own personal well-being, I wouldn't have bothered you in the first place. Let's be honest here; I'm not interested in fighting, as its energy wasted just to exchange a few words. Besides-" He went and stood back at his previous position, his beetle-black eyes making his sockets look hollow in the night-time darkness, "I'd think you'd be quite interested in what I have to say about Cloud; assuming you already don't know."

"Quit patronizing me and just tell me what the hell you're going on about," Tifa kept her fists elevated like fangs being bared. "Its either that, or leave."

Tseng huffed again, displaying his own exhaustion despite the unease of the opponent before him. "Well, then I suppose frankness is the better part of discretion here," he began. "Have you not noticed anything _unusual _about your friend at all? Anything he might be saying or doing that's cause for worry?"

Tifa blinked rapidly, not at all expecting these very _specific _queries in particular. Instantaneously, she felt her rage simmer to a near boil; feeling a very uncharacteristic desire of needing to inflict violence upon him. The need to enact on it was certainly alarming; but something Tifa decided not to question seeing as the man before her has hurt her in numerous ways before even properly meeting her.

_He could've easily voted on the order to destroy Sector Seven, _she reminded herself. _He abducted Aerith and threatened her family more than just a few times. He could've had Marlene killed! He could've very well ordered for Zack's disappearance too; should that have actually happened. He's done more enough damage for one life-time._

_I should end him right now._

On the outside, Tifa's face remained blank; and its something the girl was glad for. "How could _you _possibly know that?" Tifa spat, trying to get a lid on her budding temper. She quelled it quickly, watching the man for any signs of oncoming conflict.

He shrugged rather casually, "Keep in mind we of the Administrative Department of 'Research' and General Affairs specialize in intelligence gathering and observation- especially when we believe Aerith's well-being may be compromised." He rolled his shoulders once; seemingly shaking off fatigue of some kind, "At any rate, I'd figure I'd tell you you should watch your friend _carefully_\- Cloud's a person of interest to the Turks as well."

_Why is he flippantly telling me this?_

"It isn't because he was SOLDIER, right?" She couldn't help asking, remembering Cait's words from earlier that day. On the side, she was shocked Tseng told her this; seeing as she knew this man was more tight-lipped than the boisterous Elena. He's deliberately dangling lines before her; and it couldn't be anything else _**but**_.

Tifa's query however seemed to be enough for Tseng, whose raven brows actually noticeably rose higher on his proud temple. His next expression was something close to a leer, despite the usually enigmatic facade he put on. "Ah. So that's what he's been telling you," he noted.

_Shit. Wait... Is that not the reason he's after him?_

Tifa decided to try fishing around for answers herself; seeing as Tseng was doing it. "What, that's not obvious enough for you? He _did _kick Reno's ass easily enough-" she deliberately needled.

Tseng actually changed his stance for the first time this entire conversation, shifting weight to one side while gently folding his arms across his chest once. One hand wandered around in aimless motions as his mind worked, "No no. Not that. I just found it interesting he's been telling you this even though its a lie."

"A _what_?" Tifa huffed almost incredulously.

Tseng shook his head again, his arms retreating behind his back again. "Tell me something; when he told you this, how did he come off to you?" he tactfully asked, deliberately knocking her off-balance with the topic change. "Did he sound like he believed it himself? Or do you feel like its a deliberate lie?"

"I-" she stuttered initially, not expecting to get caught tonight in some sort of interrogation of this caliber. "He wouldn't lie to us," she finally found her words there. "He's not that kind of person."

"So you believe in his moral fiber and level of sincerity?"

"At least he has one," She spat back. "And one I can trust."

Tseng said nothing to that; his expression quite stern despite it containing something akin to troubled if its to be read correctly. Nonetheless, he didn't seem to mind the insults. Still, his earlier questions came back with a vengeance; the more Tifa reflected on them.

_...He wants to know about Cloud's mental well-being, even though he seems to clearly know more than he lets on. _Tifa weighed the individual in front of her, having finally accepted that maybe, his queries were somehow rooted in true curiosity. _But then... is Cloud really not well? He wouldn't be asking me personally if he didn't think it somehow... Unless he thinks it might pose a threat to Aerith. Its not like he disguised his interest earlier on when he said as much._

Yup. That's DEFINITELY not a good sign; but a motive that would render Tseng's intentions honest in one way or another. Tifa thought this whole meeting had felt out of sorts this whole time; and now its starting to make sense why.

Regaining control of her own inner turmoil, Tifa finally drew herself out of her stance, placing a hand on her hip whilst the other dangled limply. "You said you knew something about Cloud. Why're you asking me this if you said you already knew?"

"I merely wanted to know if you noticed this as well," he admitted, somewhat baffling the woman further.

"Yeah right. And this would benefit you _how_?"

"It doesn't," he replied frankly. "More like, it benefits you if you wish to confide in that."

The former bar-tender sniffed at this, "Right. Like you'd expect me to just freely tell you about my friend's health?"

The man sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night, "Figured I'd be kind enough to ask. I didn't want to force it out of you, nor resort to other low-brow methods for confirmation."

"Like that's bothered you before?" She almost snarled through her teeth lowly.

Tseng's eyes looked very drawn, his expression unphased by the amount of venom in the woman's voice. "Well, is that not what you're looking for while you were out on your little sunset stroll? Some clear answers and a little time to wonder why your friend isn't quite how you knew him?" He loftily pressed.

Well, he got her _there_.

Tifa folded her arms, measuring the usually shifty man before her, "If I actually decided to agree to answering a couple of non-invasive questions, would you tell me what you know about Cloud? Preferably without the lying-" She curled a fist in the crook of her arm, her wine eyes flashing warningly.

_I shouldn't be taking the bait, but surely a nibble may entice him to say more? _Tifa nonetheless kept her wits about her; seeing as the older man before her was quite experienced with word-play and likely dealt with most situations without the threat of violence on the daily. In hind-sight, she knew she shouldn't be doing this with someone so dangerous, but the convenience of this man's appearance after her own rumination couldn't be coincidence.

_Minerva, please let this be a good sign for once._

The other dipped his head in the meantime, "I can't guarantee anything due to my own lack of knowledge or any substantial proof; and I'm short on time on the side. However, you can't say I haven't fairly fore-warned you either. Is this exchange still acceptable?"

He was giving her a clear warning and a clear out; an opening invitation that beheld no promise of conclusive results. Turks don't dally around though; so unless he _sincerely _wanted the information so badly, he was willing to consent to a polite questionnaire instead of threatening her for it. He could easily be using trickery to get her to comply, but Tifa knew better; and knew when to censor herself if it felt needed.

Or at least, she hoped so.

"...For the moment. You go first," she bit, still wondering if this was too good to be true. She decided she wouldn't take some of his replies too seriously, and she'll only give him half-truths at most. She made a mental note to take careful stock of his words and not fall for any of it.

"Alright then," Tseng replied, his expression neutral. "What if I said the majority of your questions can be answered if you somehow found Hojo?"

Tifa felt her irritation grow again, "Never a straight answer with you Turks. Should've known."

Tseng actually had the audacity to step forward a tad, his expression something like marble, "I'm being serious: Hojo _literally _knows why Cloud's behaving the way he is. Even I can't fully explain it. What little I know isn't definitive nor helpful; and cannot be explained easily- as I've said already."

"Fine. So, what is it you _do _know for sure?" The woman tried, deciding on taking Tseng's words at face-value for the moment. She logged the detail away for the moment; deciding to save it for another walk.

"He's been presumably afflicted with a treatable but dubious condition," Tseng confirmed. "As I've said, I've nothing to back that statement. Although I figured you could do with knowing this rather than go without."

"Eh... 'condition'?"

"Yes," Tseng nodded. "Now again, I don't know for certain if he has it; but its _very _likely at this point, considering what you've told me so far. Its actually an ailment that's common in individuals exposed to Jenova cells. Have you heard of this term at all?"

"Uh... I think so," Tifa mumbled, trying to remember where she actually recalled hearing it. Her memory however brought her back to the ship; when not-Sephiroth left an arm that could've easily belonged to the ever-so-eloquently named 'headless spook' of Shinra Tower. Cissnei had taken a sample of the thing; with Red confirming his own recollection of it.

_Does he mean **its **cells?_

Tseng's expressionless gaze remained dead-pan, but Tifa didn't miss the flash in his dark eyes. He noticed Tifa's familiarity with the name and supplied, "The name you're looking for is J-cell Toxicosis; and its responsible for Cloud's questionable state; should he legitimately have it. As it is, Hojo wanted to run tests on him when you lot were incarcerated; as he'd recognized Cloud as a missing test subject. We _do _know he's subjected Cloud to some sort of ambiguous testing earlier on in the years; but nothing even we Turks know of precisely- thus our continued observation on you all."

Tifa flapped her lips, feeling _very _uncomfortable with this huge portent. Honestly, she didn't think Tseng would tell her _this _much so fast. "He... Hojo did _what_?" she almost babbled.

"Has Cloud never mentioned anything of his last five years?" He went on to ask despite her building shock. He wasn't giving her time to process much past this bomb-shell; perhaps a tactical move.

"Eh... no. He never said anything past Nibelheim."

Tseng's expression was suddenly firmer, "Hm. So, he's been telling you he's SOLDIER, but has never actually specified anything of his life past the incident... Do you think he's said nothing of the last five years due to genuine memory loss?"

By now, Tseng's shift in expression and demeanor was _really _starting to creep her out; as he was coming off as _deadly _serious about what he's telling her. If nothing else, Tseng didn't mince words. So, Tifa eventually looked away; feeling her gut drop out from within her. She wasn't sure _what _to think now. It would explain his interest in Tifa's words; she had first-hand experience with dealing with Cloud now. He however had nothing to go by except from whatever he and the rest of the Turks saw from afar. Moreover, there wasn't even that many of them _left_.

As for what she considered earlier, she was starting to wonder if perhaps, Tseng's hunch was correct.

When Tifa didn't reply for that moment though, Tseng decided to move the convo along, "I suppose he really _has _exhibited some rather queer behavior?"

The woman blinked off her stupor, having finally relaxed her stance at some point and not noticing sooner. "If I may," she began tentatively. "You Turks have your fingers in a lot of pies, right? Do you know anything of the people who went to Nibelheim five years back?"

The subject change might've startled him; but it was hard to be sure. "Does this have anything to do with what we're discussing?" Tseng asked. When the woman replied in the affirmative though, the Turk relented with, "Alright then. What did you have in mind?"

"Cloud told me he went five years ago when Sephiroth had to inspect the reactor, claiming to be first class. However, I remember it being different: I thought I saw another person there instead," she watched the Turk's brow-line rise marginally- a sheer sign of something ill. "He was taller, dark-haired and had a scar on his face, right?"

"He's never mentioned Zack either?" He asked with what Tifa could've swore was shock.

_Bingo. He knew who I was talking about with just that little description, and didn't deny Zack's inclusion in the mission. So my memory __**isn't **__a lie._

Tifa went along with it, "No. He never did."

"So he's essentially said nothing of his acquaintance with him?"

With another shake of her head in reply, the man's gaze only darkened. Tifa went for broke next, going on to ask, "What, did they know each other?"

The man's lips flapped open once, turning on his heel and gazing off to the side in heavy reverie. He didn't reply right away, his severe expression so stony not even granite could match it. He eventually conceded with, "Yes. I'd think so anyways. I wouldn't necessarily know much of the details, but that's the impression I was left." He arrested his hooded gaze back onto Tifa, "So, I'm to assume he's omitted Zack's inclusion in this mission entirely?"

"He did," she readily supplied, wondering if this was helping the man piece together whatever has been going on. She watched his reactions, although Tseng wasn't a man to emote like a normal person- Aerith had told her as much.

"I see," he eventually said in this heavy tone that sounded yet more sullen than ever. "Then I believe its safe to say that whatever Hojo's been doing has already taken effect."

"Do you really have no idea of what he wanted to do?" Tifa couldn't help asking, her voice weakening with every syllable.

The man shook his head, his obsidian eyes solemn, "I'm afraid not. I'd say I know of what he did to _some _extent; but not in any amount of detail. And I don't want to say much more due to my own lack of certainty. Even the Turks don't know anything of Hojo's work nor his whereabouts therein right now."

"Tseng," Tifa went on to inquire. "You said to 'watch' Cloud earlier, didn't you?"

"I did. And as you should," he affirmed.

"He's not... _dangerous_, is he?"

Tseng shrugged, much to Tifa's horror, "I've no idea. That's the problem we have here; all I ask is for you make sure Cloud doesn't do anything life-endangering to himself or to the people around him- namely Aerith. So long as he has you all, I don't see why it should be a problem. Am I wrong here?"

_He can't be lying if Aerith's well-being is truly being questioned here. He took a risk to come single one of us out, and is openly dropping information; although for what purpose I can't guess. Surely he's being genuine somewhere along all this?_

Tifa found herself kneading the dirt beneath her with an errant toe; her shoe plowing some of the earth as she weighed all that's been said. After a minute spent reflecting on it all, she then asserted, "Of course."

"...Good. Now, I hate to cut this short," Tseng began again neutrally, seemingly recovering all too quickly from the oppressive weight of her own words. "-But I'm afraid I can't linger here anymore. Every moment we both spend here grows increasingly dangerous."

Tifa felt miffed, but relented that he was right.

"I originally only came here so to pass along a message," He strode forward with a tentative boldness that once again took the girl off-guard. "I've been meaning to verbally tell Aerith, but it seems the lot of you are quite determined to keep her as far from us as possible. As it is, I guess a written message for only her eyes will do."

Tifa squinted at him, thinking the man was once again poking at her nerves on purpose. "I'm not a courier," she affirmed, but her curiosity was once again peaked.

"Maybe not, but you _are _her friend, yes?" Tseng raised a coal-colored brow at her, ignoring the other question completely. When Tifa said nothing to this, the man went on, "Then I suppose it won't do any harm to take this to her. Please see that she gets this."

He took out a tiny sliver of paper; folded neatly with what she presumed was his prim, cursive hand-writing looping creatively on its front. He held it up for her to see as if to demonstrate his non-hostile intent, "I've been meaning to give this to her for quite some time; but haven't had the time in the last couple of weeks. I wanted to tell her in person; but between you and my duties, I don't think I'll ever have that chance."

"What makes you think I'd pass it along?" Tifa deliberately tried to snuff him, still trying to understand the level of his sincerity. "I mean, you could be getting me to pass along a threat ordering her covert submission as ransom for her mother or something."

"If that were the case, I would've done that a _long _time ago," Tseng freely admitted. "All the while roping in that little girl you all left with Elmyra."

Tifa let loose a scowl that could snap-freeze boiling water, balling her fists. The leather gloves could be heard protesting with each motion.

Tseng shrugged it off, "Nonetheless, its something I'd never want to repeat if possible. Although, now that you mention it-" His frown deepened, "Rufus will not be above trying that. He could eventually order us to do this, should our pursuit of Sephiroth go side-ways. I suppose its fair to warn you that we know where Elmyra and the girl are ahead of time. Maybe you bunch should get a hold of them and tell them to leave Kalm and hide where we Turks won't look."

"Oh how generous of you," Tifa almost snarled.

"Indeed. Now then-" Tseng then sighed, his unflappable demeanor actually melting away here, "If I told you Aerith asked a favor of me some years back and I'm returning it now, would you believe me?"

_Not really, _she sarcastically thought. Tifa tried to keep her rigid war-mask on, but was getting too emotionally and spiritually drained for anymore posturing.

Seeing this as a hopeful sign, Tseng took the moment to step forward fully while Tifa's guard was down. He stopped before her with just enough distance needed to hand her the note; his profile indicating his own exhaustion. "I only ask this one thing of you," he said with as much deference as possible. He held out the paper packet, sealed rather tightly with what Tifa was sure was some sort of fancy wax-seal adhesive. "This is an informal request; and one I'll likely get sacked for should anyone know about it. Please give this to her and tell her to burn it after she sees it. She'll... she'll certainly appreciate it."

Tifa frowned at him, but said nothing. She reluctantly took it, turning the paper over while her brain crawled to a stop as fatigue set in. _'Burn' it? Why deliberately give me something that may compromise him? _She wondered. _Unless he actually does want to help somehow. But still, why is he doing this? He's Shinra's best pet for crying out loud._

"Okay then," Tseng went on, briefly taking out his phone and checking the time on it. "I'm officially out of time. Nobody needs to know we've met beyond me, you and Aerith. Please run that by her and ask her before making any decisions of telling the others. Its her own _personal _business after all. So if she wants to tell you what its all about, that's her prerogative. Fair enough?"

The woman folded her arms, her wine eyes locked onto the note and switching back to Tseng. She really didn't see anything harmful in that; but still couldn't help her reservations.

Tseng saw no answer forthcoming, but seemingly didn't mind it. He only turned and passed Tifa a level glance over his shoulder, "Thank you. It doesn't seem like it, but I personally appreciate this myself. The next time we see each other however, there will be none of this civil deference. Consider this a fair warning to you and your friends, understood?"

He turned and went to walk away, but Tifa still had one more question to ask before her courage and her flipping tired mush of a brain made her forget again. "Wait a second," she called out. "I still had one more question left-"

"You get one. Make it count," his tone now somewhat wooden.

"Its a simple question," Tifa assured. "A yes or no will suffice."

When he didn't say anything to that, Tifa went ahead with her query, feeling her pulse quicken marginally. "Did you... I mean, do you know of what happened to Zack Fair at all? After Nibelheim I mean," She inquired with no small amount of reluctance.

The man actually turned around at this, his expression especially hard to read. "Are you a friend of his?" He entreated with a rather stiff monotone; a weirdly jagged contrast to his more reflective one from earlier. His dark eyes almost seemed to brighten, his gaze hardening.

"I- no. I never knew him," Tifa admitted, trying to get a read on this enigmatic man. "Not personally anyway."

"Then why ask about a man you apparently never got to know?"

Tifa almost balked at this; sensing the minuscule amount of accusation in his rigid drone. She wasn't sure whether or not to actually oblige him with an answer, seeing as he never replied to her own. "I asked you first," she shot back, steeling herself. "I said a simple answer would be enough. Its not like I'm asking for details."

"Well, it doesn't matter much since you claim you never knew him. That said," he considered something here. "-There's nothing else left to discuss."

_He's being deliberately vague on purpose. He HAS to know something._

"You asked a personal favor of me; it can't be that hard to at least answer that one question," Tifa pressed rather forwardly, stopping him just as he proceeded to leave. "And besides, what if I said a friend wanted to know?"

Tseng breathed; and its a sound that made Tifa wonder if he was reconsidering his obliging her. He seemed to absorb the words exchanged between them, and then he stiffly replied, "I presume Aerith wants to know?"

Tifa nodded, seeing as that's the truth. That, and then there's his parents. So many people needed this answer; _herself _included.

Tseng threw back his head, his hands clasping each other behind his back, "Give her the letter; she'll understand then. That's all I have to say to that."

Tifa tried again to stop him here, but found herself unable to say more as she watched him vanish before her eyes. A see-through veil of nothing enveloped him; leaching the man of his form and outline and rendering him as spectral as any apparition. Too flabber-gasted to make sense of it at first, she'd only realize moments later that she'd just watched him cloak and skulk off into the shadows like some fading dream- which was ultimately what succeeded in leading her to believe she might've hallucinated their encounter.

However, the tangible crunch of crinkling paper in hand bespoke otherwise.

* * *

~777~

Tifa couldn't have gotten back to the village fast enough.

By then, Gongaga was only visible if you knew the way back innately; and by whatever fire-light breached the ominous blackness. Thankfully, Tifa's experience as a tour guide had safely brought her back in one piece; not at all worried about being ambushed by the animals along the way. The local fauna couldn't have been any further from her mind in all actuality.

She entered the inn sitting neatly nested under a shady copse of fronds; the building large enough to contain a few large rooms and a single kitchen. Its easily one of the slightly bigger structures in this town; and more comfortable than Tifa and the others expected when they checked in here originally. Whatever the case, when Tifa shut the front door behind her, she immediately noticed the majority of AVALANCHE lounging comfortably in the sitting room. Aerith, Red and Yuffie weren't anywhere within sight though.

Cloud, Barret and even Cait Sith were all leaning over a coffee table with the inn's owner across from them. All four individuals had cards in hand; which the woman automatically assumed belonged to the inn's owner. She paused briefly to take in the sight of them, finding it strangely humorous seeing these three grown men playing cards with a toy cat of all things- Its just too bad Tifa didn't have it in her to laugh anymore today.

The looks on their faces suggested varying levels of barely disguised concern; with the exception of Cait, who always looked cheerful. In hind-sight, a constant stream of smiles was a weirdly decent poker mask; seeing as no one at the table could hope to fathom what hid behind the cat's mask.

The Inn's owner eventually slapped down his hand and sighed, declaring his own submission in the process. Barret threw down his not five seconds after; muttering another slew of colorful curses. Cloud sighed in a resigned way, throwing an arm over the head-rest of his chair and tossing his hand at the center of the table.

"Yup. I'm out," He dead-panned.

"Dammit," Barret grumped. "It should be illegal to gamble against a damn machine. How da _fuck _can we tell if he's cheatin'?"

Cait cackled playfully, throwing down his cards and ending the game with a decisive smash to every individual present. He pulled in the handful of coins that acted as substitute poker chips, his tail wiggling merrily. "Ya know laddie, that's what casinos are all about; gambling away your life's savings to a machine! If you're havin' such a problem wid me, than I suggest you avoid them." He then blithely told them in an effort to cheer them up, "If its any consolation, yous didn't make it easy! I don't think I've had a game this good in _weeks_!"

"What's a cat to do with some pocket change anyways?" Cloud huffed while folding his arms.

The feline threw up an excited paw, waving it around and then jumping onto the table before him, "How about I show ya when we get to the next town over? Believe me; you'd be surprised what a fistful of moneys can be stretched out to do!"

Tifa huffed once, incidentally gaining the attention of every eye in the room. She threw her hands behind her back, suddenly feeling a little bashful. "Sorry. Don't mind me," she said. "I'm just watching at this point."

"You wanna join in, lass?" Cait grinned devilishly. "We can make it double!"

"Not me," the owner said with a gentle laugh. "I'm going straight to bed. Its bad enough I gambled away what I did. I almost lost half of what I made today from you. I need to keep my business afloat somehow."

"Don't let the wife catch ya," Barret chortled.

"Let's hope not," he waved off. "Goodnight fellas."

Once he left, their gazes still briefly locked onto his retreating form, Barret than asked Cait Sith, "Hey uh... You deliberately manipulated that man by playing on his gambling habit, didn't ya?"

"Yup!"

"Yunno he's poor and all, right?"

"Also yes."

"Man you're cold-blooded," the large man growled.

"Ain't got no blood for you to be callin' cold, good sir!" Cait Sith bantered back. "'Sides, we need the money to pursue Sephiroth with. Its for a good cause."

"Coulda fooled me."

Cloud ignored them, turning his attention to Tifa. "Wanna join?" Cloud gently inquired, his tone strangely welcoming. "I'd bet you're better at it than this moron," he added while jerking a thumb at Barret.

"Look whose callin' the kettle black," the larger man snorted.

Tifa waved them both off, subtly making note of Cloud's appearance: He seemed to be relaxed; an observation that, not for the first time, made her wonder if her worry was more paranoia than anything else. "No thanks," she smiled while keeping her own emotions firmly buried. "I just wanted to know where Aerith was. Is she still hanging around the Fairs?"

Cait bobbed around on the table, humming once. "I think she went to your room not minutes ago, lookin' rather tired," he imputed with a gloved paw making its way to his chin. "If nuthin' else, she's talkin' with Red or somethin', seeing as he went with her."

Tifa's expression briefly flickered to baffled, but then she shrugged it off. "Alright then," she nodded, thanking him in the process. "I think I might go to bed myself. Have fun you guys."

Before she got not ten feet away, suddenly, she heard, "Wait a sec."

Tifa paused, looking over her shoulder at the trio.

Cloud started, and then hesitated; his expression flipping between certainty and its opposite. After a few seconds like this, fully aware of the looks he's getting from his companions, Cloud almost hurriedly asked, "You uh... have you been feeling alright? You've been real quiet lately."

Tifa hummed noncommittally, wondering if her discontent was _that _obvious. "I'm fine," she gently deflected. "I just wanted to turn in early; seeing as we have a long drive tomorrow, right?"

Cloud frowned at her; a sheer sign of his undisguised suspicion. Beside him, even Barret was giving her a look, running a hand through his grizzled beard. Cait merely tilted his head, his tail swishing once.

"I suppose that's true," the cat said, as if he was sensing Tifa's desire to immediately leave the room. "The earlier we go, the better! I'd like to get some time to meself when we get to Runen Hills! I hear that town's got some scenic spots we could all enjoy!"

"Yunno we ain't on no vacation," Barret groused, slapping a hand on the table.

Cait merely shrugged him off, bobbing his shoulders like he didn't have a care in the world.

Cloud didn't remove his mako eyes from Tifa; his gaze certainly feeling like an x-ray at this point. Nonetheless he inclined his head in acknowledgment of the previous statement, getting to his feet and rolling his neck and shoulders. "Yeah," he drawled lazily. "I wouldn't mind some decent shut-eye myself. I'm done getting my ass handed to me by a talking kid's toy anyways."

"Your loss!" Crowed the feline.

"And your monetary gain, should I stay," Cloud rolled his eyes.

Tifa couldn't help wincing when she noticed Cloud fall into step behind her, the pair walking into the hall with both of their gender-segregated rooms on either side. The Inn wasn't big enough for more than five rooms; with the aforementioned two being the only rooms for visitors. In fact, the diminutive size of the inn was what made Tifa nervous of the proximity she shared with her companions.

Or, more specifically, _Cloud_.

The man stopped in front of his door, but made no move to grab the handle. Instead, he stopped Tifa before she could even put a hand on hers. His gaze was penetrating; even though his expression was mild and uncertain. "Tifa," he started, his lowered tenor barely above a murmur. "You got a minute?"

The woman was about to say "No. I'm just want to go to bed", but Cloud's gaze forcibly kept her from voicing the snappy excuse. She paused and leaned against the wall, her hands behind her back. "Is something wrong?" she said instead, hoping to divert his attention from herself in some way.

Cloud's eyes were steeled; like glassy icicles carefully creeping from frozen run-off. "Not for me, no. I'm more worried about you," he candidly began, surprising Tifa in the process. "I _know _something's been bothering you lately. And last I checked, you even admitted as much back in Midgar."

"Oh. You... you remember that?" she mumbled, recalling her own innate troubles then. She'd been so focused on what's been going on recently she even temporarily _forgot _about it. At the recollection though, she couldn't help her contrite expression, suddenly feeling pressed by the multitude of troubles that's been dogging them lately- Cloud's condition aside.

Cloud nodded, folding his arms and leaning coolly against his door. "I know we haven't had much chance to talk since then; and I can't help wondering if all this runnin' around is just catching up to ya." His frown deepened, "I might be wrong, but yunno, I wouldn't mind if you wanted to come talk to me about it once in a while. You never actually get much chance to breathe, right?"

Tifa felt her face warm; cursing herself for the treacherous tint building on her cheeks. She inwardly thanked the fact the hall was lit by candles and not actual lights; casting the majority of her features in gentle shadow. The effect certainly wasn't lost on Cloud either; although it made his frost-bitten stare even more vivid.

When she didn't reply though, Cloud seemed to assume that this was in fact the reason for her continued reticence. His expression noticeably softened, and suddenly he's averting his gaze. "Look, uh," his arm moved once; hesitation suddenly edging his gestures. After the briefest battle within himself, he relented and moved said arm to the back of his head, scratching at it rather sheepishly. "I wanted to know; if you'd been feeling so stifled hanging around this cluster-fuck we got goin', I understand if you wanted some space. That's why you take your walks, right?"

Tifa didn't answer immediately, but dipped her head in a way that somewhat betrayed her reply to that. In truth, the statement wasn't far off the margin.

At this, Cloud grew another brave bone in his body, his eyes slightly harder now. "See, I've been thinking. If you uh, if you _wanted _to... I was thinking whenever we stop next, maybe we can grab a couple drinks. Nothing fancy or anything." His head scratching got a little more furious there, "Or take another walk or somethin'. I dunno. Just getting away from the others for a minute sounds fine- if that's okay with you."

_Wait. Did he just-?_

Tifa's brain was _thoroughly _fried now, and the evidence couldn't have been more obvious with every second that ticked by in the aftermath of this rather bold query. If she didn't know better, she could've _swore _Cloud was asking her for a... for a...

Tifa tried to blink off her stupor; but the attempt was failing _miserably_. "Y-yeah uh," she fought off the stutter, feeling suddenly ridiculous for it. She considered her own reply though; despite the implification that could underline his intention. She wondered if this was a gesture born of an earnestly concerned friend wishing to see if she's well, or if its something else. Tifa didn't dare entertain the latter thought though; instead deciding that maybe, this little outing could very well give her a chance to finally explore whatever's ailing Cloud.

Yeah. She could totally do this. This was _perfect._

Tifa realized she was taking too long to answer; belatedly noticing Cloud's increasingly puzzled expression. His eyes lost their earlier diamondtine hardness; flitting instead to something akin to flimsy uncertainty. If she didn't know better, she could've sworn he was reconsidering his question and was suddenly feeling as timid about this whole thing as she was.

So, to get the ball rolling, Tifa said almost breathlessly, "Yeah, sure. We can do that."

"Really?"

Tifa nodded, her hands madly fidgeting behind her back. She was pretty glad Cloud couldn't see it. "That actually sounds kinda nice," she added, realizing that her words were truly reflecting some sort of inner excitement she never knew was there before. "I wouldn't mind doing that, whenever we have the time and if it seems appropriate."

Cloud's gaze flickered again; his collected bravado suddenly replaced with a more tentative, and weirdly more _familiar _smile that actually took Tifa right back to the well that starry night several years back. She didn't know why, but somehow, this short conversation was bringing out sides that were usually buried in _both _parties.

In the meantime, Cloud nodded again and went to open his door, dipping his head once in reply. "Alrighty then. Lemme know when its most convenient for you," he said, his gaze certainly softer. "Make sure to get some rest."

Tifa hummed, feeling her own easy expression match his.

Just as Cloud opened the door to his room though, the pair was greeted by the weird sight of _Yuffie-freaking-Kisaragi_ still bent in a leaning position; as if she's been hearing this whole conversation the entire time. The girl was immediately grinning at the sight of the two, not at all acknowledging the fact that she's been in the _men's _room during the whole convo.

"Oh! Hey you guys. Wassup?" She smirked, looking like a child whose hand was caught in the cookie jar.

Cloud's vacant expression _immediately _flipped to militant anger, while Tifa's gaze shifted to something like a mother's _You're in BIG trouble _mode. She even folded her arms over her breasts, while Cloud blocked Yuffie's exit to his room.

"Going somewhere?" He levelly asked just as the ninja went to duck past him.

"Uh, yeah? To _bed _if you don't mind," the girl snapped, acting like she totally wasn't intimidated by the angry parents about to scold their insolent child.

Cloud remained in the way though, his eyes roving Yuffie for anything that would strike him as conspicuous. "Got a reason for bein' in here?" he inquired through gritted teeth.

Yuffie was starting to sweat now, "I was just trying to uh... check our inventory? You dudes carry most of our stuff around..."

Both Cloud and Tifa were folding their arms now, their expressions skeptical.

"-And I remembered that I misplaced one of my weapons in your toat in here," She went on, her mouth clearly moving faster than her brain by now "'Cuz I went to fix a couple of my dud flash-bang grenades and found out they're missing. So I said to myself, 'Huh. That's weird. Maybe I accidentally threw them in the materia bag' and went to check and uh-" She drew out a pair of rounded objects with wrapping on them, the girl cautiously handling them with expert care, "See? They were in here. I swear!"

Cloud clearly wasn't convinced, but he didn't hassle her for it. Instead, he squinted and went on with, "Then _why _didn't you just come out when you found them instead of lingering around in our room like some kinda thief?"

Yuffie flapped her gums at him and harrumphed, her expression huffy. "I didn't want to interrupt you guys! _Gosh_. You two never say much to each other as it is!" She managed to finally dodge past Cloud and strode down the hallway, "You know what? I think _I'm _going for a walk now. I swear the nerve of you guys! Acting like I was just a rifling through your grody _under-garments_. Blegh!"

Once she was gone, Tifa turned to Cloud and said, "You're gonna check your things, right?"

"Yup."

"Right. Well, if you see anything missing, lemme know."

"Yup."

Tifa watched him disappear into his room; and then started hearing the faint ruckus of several heavy bags getting hefted and dumped. She shook her own head in the meantime, deciding to keep a closer eye on her own stuff for now on. That said, she went into the girls' shared room and shut the door; not expecting to be greeted by yet another weird sight all in all.

Low-key, it looked absolutely adorable:

Aerith was propped up against Red's side in a fetal position, her head resting against his voluminous chest and moving with every gentle inhalation. Clearly, she was asleep; her cherry-wood locks draped around her in wavy halos that vanished beneath her blanket. Nothing else of her could be seen.

As for the quadruped, he was acting as some sort of substitute pillow; his paws and tail hanging off opposing sides of the bed while his head rested on the actual pillow itself. His flaming tip was the only light source in this room, but its a pleasant brightness that wasn't too jarring. He didn't stir much when Tifa had come in, but his good eye peeked open once and caught sight of her. He blinked gently, and then shut it once again.

Tifa crept to the bed next to theirs, stopping to rest at its side. "Sorry," she whispered as lowly as she can. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Red blinked his eye open again, his smile evident through it instead. "I wasn't asleep," he affirmed with a matching tone. "Just resting. I do apologize for not leaving though. I didn't want to wake her up," he jerked his head slightly.

"That's okay," Tifa gingerly smiled, giggling slightly. "I'm not going to ask you to move either. I'll go change in the bathroom."

Red smiled subtly, the corner of his muzzle twitching once. His eye slipped shut again, huffing like a contented canine lounging in front of a glowing fire-place.

Tifa left them temporarily, and then came back not two minutes later in a gown of her own. She dropped her clothes into her bag, being careful to hide Tseng's letter in a slit inside the bag itself. She didn't know how often Yuffie rummaged through things, assuming she _really _did do it at all; but she wanted to be careful anyways. After that was done, she slid easily into the bed; sighing heavily as the weight of her entire day crashed upon her.

Suddenly, she heard a tentative, "I apologize" next to her; bringing her attention back to the quadruped. "I didn't mean to over-hear your conversation with Cloud," he started, his one eye glittering. "For what its worth, I was trying to shut it out."

"That's okay. You have great hearing; so it can't be helped. In hind-sight, maybe me and him could've talked elsewhere," Tifa assured. "These walls aren't thick you know."

"True," he breathed lowly. "But I don't think outside would've sufficed anyways; after what we saw today."

_And whom I saw not one hour ago, _Tifa inwardly added.

"Red?"

"Hm?"

She turned onto her side, meeting his scholarly gaze head-on, "If you don't mind my asking... why're you here anyway? Not that I mind. Is Aerith not well or something?"

The creature huffed again, but this time its a short sound that jerked his chest a touch too much. Aerith hummed something unintelligible, but remained asleep against his ribs. He checked to see if she woke, and then said, "She tells me her meeting with the Fairs wore her out. I think it was an emotional roller-coaster for her. I thought I smelled tears when she came back; but she tried to hide them."

"_Oh_," Tifa looked at the floor at that, suddenly wishing she could've gotten a straight answer from the inscrutable Turk. She found herself asking, "Did she actually say anything in particular? I mean, I know its not any of my business-"

Red shifted slightly, his paws alternating positions atop each other. He rested his head again, keeping his tone modulated, "She didn't say much, no. I don't think she talks about her feelings about this boyfriend of hers a lot; and wound up bottling it up for quite some time. I think today was just one of those days for her. She's likely to be herself in the morn."

The martial artist nodded sagely, remembering some of the nights she had her own company and thoughts to herself and letting them out when no one was looking. That used to happen to her a lot before she met Barret; when she was still freshly absorbing the Nibelheim tragedy's reality. Too many times, she cried herself to sleep; wishing someone was there to hear and comfort her. And when she finally found some good company, _still _she didn't share her woes with any of them. And she had no idea why either; it wasn't like Jesse or Wedge were unpleasant people- Nor was Aerith for that matter.

Tifa resolved to be a little more open with Aerith then, even though its a difficult resolution for her. "I won't say anything," she told the creature next.

"Of course."

The woman shut her eyes next, suddenly thankful for Red's proximity. She certainly was going to miss him should he decide to stay in Cosmo Canyon; but she wouldn't fault him for wishing to stay in a home he at least still had. If anything, a little part of her was somewhat envious of that option to go home; seeing as every home she's ever known was burnt or buried underneath varying weights of pain.

This horrifying homesickness suddenly stole her breath away; her composure briefly slipping as she realized that the only home she'd ever really known was gone yet again. Midgar's Sector Seven was _finally _starting to feel like _something_. But now, it too lie in her memories; and she'd barely had enough time between then and now to finish processing it. Right now, the only place she belonged with was the people around her. Literally, her whole world was tapered to a fine point; leaving only a handful of people she could count as reasons to continue forward. Should something happen to them, she'd _literally _have nothing else left to call her own.

Them, and little Marlene; whose likely crying herself to sleep missing Barret and herself. She might be doing it _now _for all she knew.

Tifa's rogue tears finally slipped free; the girl doing her best to try to shake them away but failing spectacularly in the process. She didn't know how it happened, nor when her iron control decided to falter. All she knew was that Red was plainly watching her; there's no way his nose would miss her lament. Still she sat there and cried; inwardly wishing he wasn't in here suddenly.

On another, even crazier note; she wondered how much better she'd feel if she were lying in that bed with Aerith and Red; their warm bodies pressed against hers in familial assurance- It wouldn't matter how crowded it be; it would just be comfortable to be close to people she cared about once in a while.

Red lifted his head from his paws, his expression clearly baffled. "What's wrong?" he murmured.

Tifa didn't say anything; knowing if she opened her mouth, some sort of ugly noise would slip out and wake Aerith. Instead, she focused on taking deep breaths and chasing away her helpless frustrations; knowing a good cry was all that's needed before she'd regain that brittle calm again. She'd be okay for another little while; and that was fine. She waved him off once, trying to tell him to give her a minute.

She jerked when she felt a cold tap against her arm instead, and then the warmth of a large torso entwining itself around her head and upper body. She lifted her heavy skull and marveled at the fact that Red had skillfully abandoned his earlier position; all without waking Aerith in the process. The girl was still sound asleep across from her; a pillow shoved gently against her head to help encourage her to grab it once she stirred enough. As for the quadruped, he draped his paws off of Tifa's bed and rested his box head upon them, his one eye rested upon her in mute supplication. He blinked gently, his chest vibrating with a rumbling _purr _that somehow reached into Tifa's bones.

Tifa wordlessly reached and stroked the thickest patch of fluff on his breast, closing her eyes in reverent gratitude for his company. She gingerly shifted the top of her head against him, already feeling his thrumming assurance taking its effect on her. The purr was a weird thing for him to have; but something Tifa no less appreciated.

After a minute, she whispered hoarsely, "I'm sorry. I just miss Marlene. I can't help wondering if she's okay or not. We pretty much left her with a complete _stranger_; even if she is Aerith's mom."

Red nodded, his gaze knowing.

Tifa moved a hand to his fore-leg, softly grasping at it as one would clutch someone's wrist. "I know Marlene's safe with Elmyra, but its still too much for a little girl to go through. She was re-homed just as many times as I was throughout my life, but she's barely hitting _five years old_. Five! I can't help wondering if she thinks I left her there because I don't care about her or something."

"Tifa," he murmured lowly, bumping his head with hers once; not unlike an affectionate house-cat coming home to a welcoming owner. "You know that's not true. I may not know this girl or even what she looks like; but with the way you touch another person's heart, I wouldn't think she'd believe that." His next smile was a little toothier, "You have this air that many people want to latch onto; a strength that leaves none to second guess your earnest spirit. And although I've not known you for as long as Marlene, even I would be a fool to doubt your gentle intentions otherwise."

His purr stopped at this point, the creature taking the moment to take another breath for his next words. "This same air is an honest one; and one I know Marlene thinks about every time she lays her down at night. In a world that's made orphans of us all, people with your kind, motherly touch are treasures to have. And this treasure is unforgettable; tangible, and strong enough to transcend distance; and even death itself." He sat up, his eye glowing in the dim fire-light, "I certainly don't doubt my own mother's love when she left me to fight her own battles. I couldn't have been prouder to know she was out there, helping others and making my home a better one every day. I was no older than Marlene when I first learned of the harsher aspects of our world; and yet I knew my mother was making it all better for me. I can't imagine Marlene wouldn't feel the same.

"Besides," he whispered with another smaller, but somehow more excited grin than the last. "I'm willing to bet Marlene is hoping to see you soon; and when you do come back, you'll both be going home to a place only you will fit- and it doesn't have to be a physical place for you both to set roots. Although, it probably wouldn't hurt to search for a place like that once its all said and done. How about this-" He tilted his head towards her conspiratorially, "Once we get to Cosmo Canyon, we can ask my grandpa if there's any empty homes you can have in the future; should you want it."

Tifa blinked at him, "Wait, really? He'd be okay with that? Just like that?"

"I've no doubt," he thoughtlessly asserted with absolute finality. "Its like what I was telling Aerith actually- If Midgar or Kalm truly becomes too dangerous for Marlene or miss Elmyra, you can bring them there at any time. My people will be happy for the new faces; if nothing else. Shinra hasn't bothered us in _years_; and there's nothing there they'd want." He yawned suddenly, reminding Tifa of how late its getting. "It couldn't hurt to ask," he sighed afterward. "Literally the worst my grandpa will say is, 'Well why haven't you done this already? _Go get them!'_"

Tifa smiled, wondering what having a permanent residence was like at this point- if not that, then a decent sanctuary. At this moment, she knew its just a pipe-dream; but one that wasn't totally unrealistic if she set her mind to it. She laid her head down on the mattress, pressing herself against the creature's chest.

"Thank you," she whispered in a voice only he can hear. "I'll have to consider that. And uh, about your other words..." she squeezed his leg briefly. "Thanks for that too. You have no idea just how reassuring that is to hear."

The creature merely purred anew, passing Tifa what she figured was a wink; seeing as the motion looked too deliberate to be anything else but. He yawned again, seemingly no longer interested in trading words once he felt that Tifa was better. If anything, the quadruped continued his rumbling; this deep-chested noise somewhat lulling Tifa to rest strangely enough. Before the girl knew it, she slipped into the vague nothing of dreamless oblivion; not at all aware of whatever problems she could've had in the waking world.

To say the least, it was the best sleep she'd ever had in a _very_ long time.


	11. When wolves come out to play

~777~

Cissnei couldn't have slept anymore deeply than the dead. Or rather, more like Vincent; who once slept through an entire village siege five years back- and had kept on sleeping since then.

Zack found no humor in this however, instead wondering where this weird, darkened sense of bone-dry satire had emerged from. He immediately chalked it up to Tseng and Cissnei's influence; and the fact that nowadays, he's more or less hanging around people that behaved more like the walking dead. In which case, its droll relevance to Vincent's predicament wasn't unnoticed; but Zack just didn't have it in him to laugh at that. Because truly, there wasn't anything hilarious about it.

Not when his rancid hatred of Shinra (and Hojo) began to cut even deeper, bleeding ruts into him that stank of infectious malice and anger. A corrupted poison drenched his nerves; spearing its way through veins and arteries until it enveloped his entire body with a live-wire friction that rubbed him like sandpaper on an open wound. This abhorrent loathing for all things Shinra wound him up; and suddenly the man was left enraged by his helpless impotence as the company threatened to grind his friends and family into pulpy dust under its leathery heel-

This unchecked flare of emotions prompted Zack to reach out; rummaging around his things for that special, little black box he'd never bothered to open. He unearthed it with frenetic but meticulous care; sitting back against the bed-frame as he caressed the smooth surface and taped-up ribbons sealing the package in some sort of confidential time capsule. The weighty box beheld almost all of Aerith's well-intentioned wishes and thoughts; how-do-you-do's and questions of when he was coming back. Zack didn't have to see them to know what's in them for the most part. He just knew. Simple as that.

Holding the box in his hands painted her serene smiles into his mind; and all of that unnerving amount of primordial rage drained away like washing blood off of your hands in clean, cooling water. Zack was able to center himself; already feeling his composure, no matter how brittle, set in like a balm. He breathed and breathed; comforted by the static feel of the lacquer-like wood and glass in his shaky, sweating hands.

For that particular night (and it wasn't even that late), Zack couldn't help his relentless tossing and turning and pacing. He and his two companions managed to fly to the next town over; checking into a hotel in the process as per usual. However, this time around Cissnei got a room to herself while he and Vincent got one to share. Zack was still a _little _apprehensive of Vincent sometimes, but he never got a malicious vibe from him at least. On the side, the guy preferred his own company; leaving the room to Zack while he went Minerva-knows-where.

Ultimately, it left Zack all by his lonesome; alone to ruminate in thoughts not quite his own. He hated thinking too much; and that's all he got to do most of the time now. At the very least, he's able to play around on Cissnei's phone and check for any updates Cait Sith might've sent them. That, or do his exercises like Hendel had instructed him to do in order to help his battered body speed along recovery.

Since Cissnei would be asleep for a _long _while, she (albeit reluctantly) allowed Zack to borrow her phone for this reason alone; warning him against any silly ideas of texting Tseng or anyone else unnecessarily. Zack agreed, joking with her a bit but then turning all serious once she went to bed. And ever since then, she'd been in bed since _yesterday_; so he was starting to wonder if he should go and see if she'll bother waking up. She'd given him a copy of her room key; but he figured sleeping off three days worth of exhaustion would keep her asleep for a little bit longer. And now, with setting sun outside, it marked a _full _twenty-six or so hours after their arrival here.

...And he couldn't have been _more _aggravated; not that his frustration lie in Cissnei's weird hibernation. It's with _Shinra _he had beef with; as he knew the company no doubt worked the girl like a fiddle a few too many times before; seeing as she hadn't acted like it was out of the norm to stay up for so long.

For right now, he sat staring at the heavy box in hand, his breath resigned and his scrambled mind tired. He kept sitting there for some small stretch of time; eventually settling for placing the box on the bedside table and lethargically moving onto the mattress. He gently scooped up Cissnei's phone, unlocked it, and blinked off the annoying glare of the screen despite the display being set to minimal brightness.

The screen's light contorted the shadows of his darkened room; his eyes hurting from staring at it for far too long and far too often today. He'd done surfed the net numerous times; checked for updates, surfed some more, and checked it again over and over. It drove him nail-bitingly crazy; prompting him to finally sit up and do some squats just to ventilate his building stress.

Not for the first time, he couldn't help wondering why he thought it a good idea to borrow Cissnei's phone in the first place. Its his only true window to the outside world in some ways; and yet he couldn't help _wanting _to shut it out somehow. Its bad enough he hadn't felt inclined to leave his room _once_. He ordered room service once today; but never did more beyond that other than stare at a phone, doze on his respective mattress, or shower off his apprehension. Literally, Zack hadn't felt the slightest inclination to be himself today.

Like, how did that become a thing for him, and _when _did it get to be this way? He felt strangely reclusive; feeling almost _afraid _of letting the world see he's here. He felt completely at odds with his own body both inside and out. He'd felt okay with talking to Vincent here and there; as the man had no one else left in the world. Not unlike himself, he stood alone in a hateful vacuum that sought to destroy him. There's literally _nobody _Vincent could turn to; no loved ones to find thirty years after his supposed 'death'. Telling Vincent the story of Zack Fair the Wannabe Hero posed no danger to the pair.

But outside of him, Cissnei, and the rest of Septimus, the promise of pain awaited any who had any link left to him. Tseng had emphasized Zack's continued secrecy for good reason; and now that Zack knew something may be potentially _wrong _with him (no thanks to a certain screwy scientist with a death wish), he couldn't help agreeing with the Turk more and more. He wasn't sure how he'd _begin _to explain to Aerith his failing health and continued fighting with Shinra anyways- not to mention Cloud's own problems.

And if he somehow _did _do something inevitably stupid to piss the company off in the long run... Well, its better his friends and family don't get caught up into it anyways. Aerith and Cloud's predicaments were fragile enough as it is.

A polite little ping however stirred the man out of his mentally questionable funk; Zack finding himself clumsily fumbling the phone around like its a hot potato. He glued his peepers onto the screen with barely any distance between it and his nose; huffing forcibly when he glimpsed Cait's number on the notification.

_Oh my god. FINALLY._

Zack sat up, reading the slew of updates as they came in; seemingly a reward for his enduring patience. He felt his lips crookedly lift at the corners as he read each as they binged into view.

_**7:37 pm **_

_**-Left Gongaga village at around noon. Had no reception there until now- wifi and cell dead zone around Gongaga is estimated to be a fifty square-mile radius at least. Will have to find a way to re-establish a connection between them and other cities in the future.**_

_**7:50 pm**_

_**-We're arriving at Runen Hills and city limits; with me booking the rooms ahead of arrival.**_

_**8:03 pm**_

_**-Checked into Nanday Holiday Inn.**_

_**8:10 pm**_

_**-Cloud looked peaky and tired; but he seems himself. He did the driving today; and displayed no irregular changes. He asked me various questions regarding the area too; including whether or not there's a strong Shinra presence here. I told him no; because truthfully, there isn't.**_

_**8:13 pm**_

_**-He and Barret asked me how much funds we had left; we don't have enough for any other future hotel stays sadly. Just enough for supplies. I plan to help find a quick way to make a few extra gil until Cosmo- which is the next destination if we get up early enough.**_

Zack leaned back in his seat, eyeing up the texts and sighing with a relief he didn't know he had. He'd been wondering if Aerith, Tifa, and Cloud were alright; so Cait's texts were indeed helping. As it were, he quickly went to look up the hotel's credentials and location, just to be certain of their geological location- And immediately felt his jaw flop open when he saw that the hotel's address was barely more than a _few measly blocks away_.

Like seriously, what we're the odds AVALANCHE would check into a place like Runen anyways?

_Ping!_

Zack kept his sapphires dead-locked as the next message blipped into view.

_**8:20 pm**_

_**-Tifa and Aerith threw Yuffie out of their room. I wonder if she's been pawning anything of ours?**_

_**8:21 pm**_

_**-Nah. They just wanted to talk quietly, I think. Aerith hasn't been quite herself. She's been reticent; Tifa might be trying to cheer her up, or it could be the other way around-? Tifa hasn't been all there herself lately. Yuffie let slip that Cloud and her were going to talk it out when they have the time. Still evaluating behavior.**_

_**\- Still may have to double check inventory though. Yuffie's behavior is dubious- if Cloud and Barret's disgruntled expressions are anything to go by.**_

From there, Zack got nothing else; and couldn't help wishing that something else _would _happen in another short amount of time. As it were, nothing else stuck out as odd beyond the women's apparent discontent- something that in hind-sight has _always _bothered Zack.

As a side-note, he always hated it when women got upset- _especially _whenever Aerith gets that way. It always seemed to tangibly affect him; bringing down his own good mood in turn. For some reason or another, he always had the weird illusion that whatever's bringing them down would do the same to him; and generally, he wanted Aerith to be happy anyways. So there's that.

As for Yuffie, well, he couldn't help being irritated at her. That girl was going to cost the lot of them more than just gil if left unchecked. He hoped Cait Sith would keep a close eye on her though; just in case. Minerva knows just how much danger loves to find Yuffie Kisaragi.

Zack huffed (for the hundredth time that hour) and got back to his feet; going to perform yet more squats and a couple other exercises just to relieve the tension. He focused on his breath, the pull of his core; finding further ease in every swing or tug in his physique. He had no headaches today; no ringing, no nausea, no feeling winded, _nothing_. So, perhaps Hendel's medication and increased mako dosage treatment plan was working; he figured.

Zack stopped; his enhanced hearing just catching the minute _sigh _of a single zephyr slipping through a cracked window. He didn't turn his head as the window groaned in its sill; the tacking of metal claws greeting his ears. He smiled somewhat, feeling a little better that he wasn't alone anymore.

"...Heya, Vince. Enjoyed your little walk?" Zack turned and regarded the willowy individual; who'd been gone for the past several hours- perhaps to explore the town for all he knew.

The other hummed something, shutting the window back all the way. "Anything?" he offered instead of a proper greeting.

Zack let out some air with a mighty _whoosh_, finding it rather funny that Vincent was as curt as he was- Its no wonder he and Tseng had clicked so easily. "Notta thing," he returned after a minute, feeling a little bit more himself now that he's actually _socializing _with somebody. He harrumphed and dipped his head, scratching at the back once. "Can't help thinking if I'm losin' sleep over nuthin' though... Yunno?"

Vincent blinked; but again its a motion that looked out of place and artificial on him. "You should get some rest then. Your body has its limits. It isn't built like mine despite your specialized training in SOLDIER," His voice remained its stoic growl, but Zack knew the statement was a sore one for him. "-I'll keep an eye for any messages from this 'Cat' in the meantime."

Zack whuffed again, dragging both hands through his fluffy bangs and flopping dramatically onto the mattress. He wordlessly threw his arms under his head, eyes arrested onto the dark ceiling.

The elder man relocated his gaze to some other point in the room, his burgundy stare glittering in the tall shadows. His arms folded across his thin chest; a sign of his casual ease. "Are you waiting on something in particular?" he suddenly entreated, his expression free of any discernible judgment whatsoever.

Zack didn't say anything immediately, his jaw jumping once. He shrugged next, "I dunno... After Cissnei said I can borrow her phone, I just kept half-expecting bad news or some other horrible thing to happen; ya know? Its just my luck nowadays." His eyes lazily drifted to the right, his gaze hovering on the door for the moment. "Well, I guess in hind-sight no news is good news- that's what my ma used to say."

"That's one way to look at it," Vincent grunted.

The ex-SOLDIER went on, "I've been sitting here wondering about how to approach this next job; but nothing comes to mind. I mean, darting Cloud isn't exactly easy when he's surrounded by AVALANCHE almost all hours of the day- and it isn't really something I see myself doin' either. I mean, I'm not a _bad _shot-" Zack grinned wolfishly and cackled humorlessly at that, "But I don't always nail them in the right places. Yunno?"

"Well, that's what I'm here for," Vincent harrumphed; his tone a little less stiff. "-To pick up your slack for whenever you lose your focus."

Zack noticed the microscopic attempt at a lighter air, and was _eagerly _latching onto it with a desperation he never known himself to have. He felt his smile come more easily, his gaze still locked onto the ceiling. "I guess you're like my wing-man or something," he commented amicably, his smile growing wider. But then he pretended to grimace, "-Or my baby-sitter; its bad enough Cissnei acts my _nanny _and not so much my friend nowadays."

Vincent scoffed at this, "And I don't exactly blame her her for it. I've barely known you two for three whole days straight and found out just how much of a handful you are- and we haven't really done anything beyond flying." He bobbed his shoulders next, "Although, I suppose Cissnei's not much better off without you; considering her work ethics. You're more observant of her needs than even she. Has she always been like this?"

"Heh. So you finally noticed?" Zack smiled lopsidedly, although he couldn't help inwardly cringing at the weird lack of stoicism in Cissnei that Turks were typically known for. Either that, or he truly _was _getting a little better at noticing and seeing past it.

Cissnei never seemed to come off as exhausted or tired in the face of these strangers during their assignments; they just never see it. Its only _Zack _she let herself relax around- and its an observation that, not for the first time, has actually wowed and honored him.

The older man relocated his grim gaze onto the window; eyes likely taking in the street some three stories below. "Hm. The Turks aren't like what they used to be," he said with an inflection Zack couldn't quite place. "Its... different somehow."

Zack sat up again, earnestly curious. "Different how?" he wondered.

Vincent kept his eyes on the glass, "I can't quite word it nor verbally do it justice. But its different. Believe me."

Zack scrunched his raven brows, but didn't press anyway. As far as he's concerned, the Turks were going to be a whole lot more _different _once he got through with Shinra. Besides, Vincent wasn't much of a talker to begin with; so it wasn't like he was going to get much more from him.

"If I may," Vincent suddenly spoke up, contrary to Zack's earlier thoughts. His bloody gaze slid to the table between their separate mattresses, "What is that exactly? I've never noticed it before."

"Huh? Oh, this?" Zack scooped up the box, gingerly turning it over a couple of times. "Its uh... Its a buncha love letters from my many adoring fans!" When the other scoffed at him, Zack cheekily corrected himself with, "Okay okay. They're a buncha love letters from my _handful _of girlfriends-"

Vincent coughed again.

"Alright! Alright, alright alright... Its mail from _one _girl in particular. Happy now?"

"I'm never happy," he replied just to befuddle the man- and it indeed took Zack off-guard since he couldn't tell if the other was being serious or not. In the meantime, Vincent took the moment to mentally count out the packaged envelopes from afar. His brows actually disappeared into his bandanna after a minute. "Are _all _of these are from her?" he asked next.

"Yup!" Zack couldn't contain his delighted grin at that. "All eighty-eight!"

"Huh," the man dipped his head at that, at least putting on the air that he did seem genuinely impressed by the sheer number of them. "So they're all Aerith's, then?"

"Absolutely," Zack drew in his legs and crossed them; carefully placing the box on his lap. "Five years worth of incentives and reasons to get back to her," he added in a steadily lowering timbre.

Vincent's brows twitched queerly; kind of like he wanted to blink but didn't. Zack sometimes wondered if the man actually ever needed to bother with the act at all. In the meantime, he studied the shiny box; and then leveled a steady stare that sincerely beheld his interest. "Why have you never opened them?" he eventually asked.

_Can't say I didn't see this one coming._

Zack shrugged casually, resting one arm across the box while the other went to support his slumping head. "I dunno," he dismissively began. "The way I had it figured, I'd much rather verbally hear whatever she has to say. And uh, well..." He sighed, "I didn't want to go through these and uh, get all sappy about it my current 'predicament'; and then go runnin' right back to her when there's still so much to do. I'm certainly stupid and impulsive enough to do it-"

"No you aren't," the elder ejaculated; his tone dead-pan. "You never came off as somebody _that _foolish. Hot-blooded, maybe, but not senseless nor without reason. And I wouldn't think you'd get in a fight that's that much over your head unless you're _absolutely _sure there's no other way out."

Zack shrugged again, the motion carelessly sharp. "Welp, ya think that kinda statement would justify my inherent 'recklessness'," he air-quoted; upon remembering Angeal's words to him. "'Sides, I'm not _that _emotionally unstable-"

"Hmf. Could've fooled me, especially considering your little skirmish in the wastes."

Zack blinked a few times, not quite recalling describing that little detail of his adventure to Vincent. He recalled Cissnei having talked with the man before his waking up in Nibelheim, but he wasn't sure as to _how much _she's mentioned to him per se.

Vincent watched Zack's emotions flicker into being; his own gaze neutral. "On another note, you very well know why you don't actually want to open those," He went on, although his tone wasn't callous or cold. "You don't need me to tell you that."

Zack lowered his arm and threw himself back; gingerly unfolding his legs without throwing the box off his lap. He just sat there, listless in all but emotion.

"I wonder," Vincent went on as he eyed the younger but incrementally taller man. "Were you ever engaged to this Aerith? You'd fought hard enough for her-"

_That _certainly drew Zack right back out of his steadily creeping slump. Suddenly he's on his feet and fumbling around with the box in brief embarrassment. "F- I- _No _man! GEEZ. I dated her two years dude," he held up the indicated number of fingers at that. "TWO. WHOLE. YEARS. I certainly don't think that's enough time to prepare for a commitment like that!"

"Hm. Not enough money?"

_Seriously? What kinda impression did I leave on this guy?_

"I... No... That's not... Well yeah? But uh," Zack scratched his head, settling back onto the mattress. He set the box beside him, "-Look. I never said anything about marrying her... Uh, not that I don't feel strongly about her! Its just... _Ugh. _This is just so weird." Zack took a breath, held, and let it out. And then, "We were making a business outta selling her flowers... and its not like money's the thing-"

"You doubt her devotion?" Vincent's eyes flickered to the box again, almost pointedly at that.

Zack was about to stoutly reply, but felt his gaze lock involuntarily onto the box; not that he was trying to contradict Vincent. If anything, he knew better than to doubt Aerith after all. His mind shot back to the image of the various shades of pink on her; the dress and jacket matching wondrously with the worn ribbon in her hair. His heart felt nigh-on leaden at the recollection; the wind trapped in his sails a maelstrom that threatened to tear down the mast.

No. Of course he didn't doubt her. Not for one fucking minute. She'd kept that faded rag in her hair for a _reason_. But seriously... Marrying her? That was such a _bold _step forward; and something Zack had blatantly ignored due to his parents once stressing it so damn much. He never took the idea seriously; and didn't really want to start caring about it _now_ considering his current love-life was on some sort of hiatus.

Still, his stony expression said enough for Vincent, who harrumphed and slumped into his high-collar. "If I didn't know better," he grunted. "I'd think she'd loved you enough for it. And with the odds you were faced with throughout this past year, you can't blame me for thinking otherwise."

The younger man clucked his tongue, "So uh, mind tellin' me what else Cissnei's been telling ya?"

"As I've said already: Just her side of things; alongside your stand outside of Midgar that actually landed you in Turk hands in the first place. Nothing else beyond that." Vincent shrugged, "And, I've been meaning to say; it took a special kind of madness to do what you did."

"Eh..." Zack scratched his head again, now understanding it from the other's point of view; at least to an extent. He let out a long, deliberately exaggerated breath that dragged every ounce of his earlier chagrin out of him. He instead set both arms on his knees, his mind a flutter.

It's true; it wasn't the sheer odds that would've stumped Vincent; so much for the fact that Zack had to throw away quite a few facets of his usually stalwart personality that day- even temporarily. Killing so many people at once; a mass _murder _of epic proportions: An inhuman feat that's only out-shined by freaks like _Sephiroth _of all things_\- _

And as for these hapless souls who had to duel some enhanced super-specter who flipped off death on a daily basis... Well, Zack couldn't help feeling so horrible for initially killing so many. He had to selfishly forget their own humanity in order to find the drive to win- Perhaps a selfish decision, in some ways. And yet the only way to survive that kind of fight was for him to toss aside what he understood made him human: he had to forget his limits; forsake morality; and throw aside the woes that kept him up for so many countless hours... all with the exception of his personal honor.

If nothing else, that's the one thing he would've wanted to die with. And yet it almost seemed like a silly trifle for a monster like a super-SOLDIER to have. Its bad enough Zack's gargantuan strength blurred the lines between man and beast.

Still, he digressed: To oh so callously slay so many individuals; who at some point, could've been very much like Cloud or himself- People who'd probably desperately needed a paycheck, whose too afraid to tell Heidegger and Scarlet 'no' to a suicide assignment like _fighting a first class lab experiment from Hojo's freak lab_\- Presumably innocent individuals who had dreams of being a champion as Zack had so many years ago when he first started out. Gods know how Cloud wasn't unlike them whenever he dons his helmet and rifle.

...Yeah. Vincent couldn't have worded it any better than he did. And if you had an outsider's view and watched the battle from afar, its possible Zack could've easily appeared as some sort of unearthly, Hell-born personification of war itself- a demon that needed to be slain before it took just another life too many. By the time he was through dicing the lot of them, he could've built a _house _out of their bodies.

What kind of human can look himself in mirror and call himself human, after all _that_?

_Normal people can't take down an army of helicopters, cut down oncoming missiles, dodge bullets, or pulverize a bunch of humans like they're nothing but hamburger meat in a sausage grinder all by themselves. _Zack felt his heart turn to stone at this, _But then again, normal always was over-rated, huh Aerith?_

"Well," he eventually began, but not quite finding it within him to think otherwise. His throat was insufferably dry, the lump within it returning with a vengeance. He'd never actually stopped to consider this before; and it was steadily robbing him of his words. In fact, the more he considered his grizzly act, the more certain he was of _never _mentioning it to Aerith. That girl believed in all life being sacred; no matter what form it took. He could already see the look of _horror _on her face should he tell her _anything _of this...

"I- I uh... I dunno, man. I still don't think _marriage _is the thing... but as for the other stuff-" He said in an attempt to abate the stagnant air.

Great Minerva. His hands were absolutely _coated _in blood. What right did he have to touch that little angel again? He'd never actually stopped to weigh it all before, but now? Didn't Aerith mention something early on about SOLDIER loving to fight? About how they unnerved her with this kind of inhuman bravado that perverted mortal expectations?

_STOP. Stop thinking about it. I'm not like that_, he figured. _I only did that so I can __**survive**__. I didn't enjoy ripping those people apart._

The difference between relishing the fight, enjoying the kill, or merely _surviving_ was rather slim; but its there no less. If anything, fighting to survive was certainly leagues above the lust for violence. So Zack took solace in that; knowing that he indeed only killed so many just so he didn't have to die in turn. Surely, Aerith would understand that?

Still, he just couldn't refute it; although Zack had once foolishly thought mutual affection was all that's shared between them- right up until the last few weeks prior to his last deployment. It hadn't been shallow fondness dragging his sick and worried carcass back to Midgar. He didn't carry Cloud and himself over several months worth of pain, cold, heat, shelter-less, friendless, sleepless, hungry nights and a giant fucking army just to find a flimsy sanctuary right under Shinra's nose because of something like hormonal, high-school level fondness. He didn't throw out his sense of human morality and empathy to fight that horrible battle because of a little _cutesy crush_.

No. When he thought he'd be taking his last breath that day in the wastes, one of the last things that fell to his mind was Aerith and her lilting warmth blossoming in his battered breast. Just _imagining _her lily and lavender-scented hair wafting around his nose had almost completely drowned out the rich tang of iron; his blood-fever and pain suddenly feeling _eons _away: Like a prayer of supplication that came indirectly from Aerith herself; wishing he get back to his feet and come meet her at her little secret garden.

_Their _little secret garden.

Zack picked up the box again, turning it over while he weighed the words of her eighty-ninth and final letter: It didn't have much in it admittedly; besides informing him of the success of her flowers. Beyond that, and her current situation in AVALANCHE, he really, legitimately didn't know what happened to her or how she wound up where she was. Tseng never really fleshed out any details; not that he'd had the time to do so.

_I've probably killed hundreds of people just to __**glimpse**__ her again. I even turned my 'symbol of honor' onto Cissnei early on when I thought it convenient for us; and she's a willing ally and friend_, he mused darkly. _Its no wonder Vincent thought my intention was to marry Aerith. And to be real honest, I'm completely willing to do it all again if it boiled down to it. That said, I might as well call myself a fucking lunatic!_

He huffed; feeling a wintry, sardonic chuckle bubbling up deep inside.

_...Maybe these letters will clear up some things_, he wondered. Or just let him know if she, at the very least, didn't feel the same as he does at this very moment. Whether or not her own affection remained, _that's_ what he was wondering. After all, Zack already knew Aerith would want to see him again; if for the sake of their close-knit friendship. But that tiny part of him was still _a little _afraid of finding out if she'd fallen out of love with him or something.

Zack's time-frame was different from hers; she'd had _five _whole years to let her tears run dry. Its very possible she could've moved on-

But then he recalled her dress and ribbon again, and he tried to flippantly dismiss that with no more notice than squashing a particularly tiny mite. He delicately ran his still clammy hands around the unblemished surface of the box, his mind finally making its decision long before he finished considering it.

Just as he grazed a short nail along the tape with the intention of tearing it, a soft _Ping _immediately drew his attention back to Cissnei's brightening phone; it having been forgotten amidst their conversation. Zack eyed it, but then his azure gaze refocused onto the box. He sighed, and eventually conceded to his rampant curiosity.

He unlocked the phone, and then felt his heart skip a beat: A gradual, painstakingly crafted grin creased his bitten lips, and then he inched his gaze back to Vincent. "Heya... Vince. How d'ya feel about taking another little walk?" He breezily inquired, his smile cock-sure.

Vincent blinked at him, "And Cissnei?"

Zack locked the phone and pocketed it, steadily getting to his feet while placing the box on the table beside his bed. He swore to open it later; given he didn't chicken out of the idea again. "Let her sleep," he eventually replied, his gaze sterner. "She can do with a little break. Minerva knows she needs it."

"You have any idea of what you're doing?"

Zack's smile just kept on growing somehow, "Well shit man. That's what you're here for; just like you said. Besides, gimme some credit here. I haven't been watching Cissnei the last _two freakin' weeks _for nuthin' yunno. In fact-" He pumped an eager fist, the muscles in his hand popping. "I think our job just part-way worked itself out."

Vincent blinked mechanically, but unwound his arms and nodded. He grunted an affirmative, and that was all Zack needed to hear to know he just got the green-light.

_Time to do some hunting._

* * *

~777~

**...**

**Earlier that same day**

**...**

In the following morn, Tifa's feeble grasp on some inner sense of peace proved to be exceptionally fleeting.

At first, she awoke feeling so rejuvenated she'd thought she imagined her reservations from the previous day. However, once she rose fully and finished her morning routine, she rediscovered Tseng's note and immediately felt her spirits sink back to a near absolute zero. The gumption to get her day moving forward sluiced out of her like a gushing throat wound. As it was, its an emotional spiral she's constantly warred against for the last several years after Nibelheim; and its something that actually happens far more often than she'll ever admit- Not that she's ever felt obliged to sharing that sentiment.

There's a part of her that's remained unresolved since then; and only now she's given a fleeting semblance of a _lead _that may help her answer one of her many questions- all because a single Turk decided to be 'nice' for a change. It felt like the only way she can move forward was if someone hand-fed it to her; a cheap, unfulfilling sensation that left her feeling winded like she just got sucker-punched. It angered her briefly, but then even _that _deserted her before a moment has passed.

She seated herself heavily back on the bed with paper in hand; only just now realizing that Red, Yuffie, and Aerith weren't here. She woke alone, with nothing to remove her dreary ruminations and it involuntarily left her feeling forlorn. She couldn't help her expression; but was kind of glad she couldn't see it in all honesty. She didn't need to see what she looked like in a mirror right now.

She decidedly didn't linger on that for another minute as she weighed the innocuous pack in hand; considering Tseng's words and rolling over what she knew about Cloud. There's no denying it: After sleeping on it, she found that Tseng may indeed be correct- if nothing else. Cloud's fit the other night was no coincidence; and its a scary situation Tifa never imagined herself being in.

When Aerith banged on their glass door with her foot, Tifa, being a light sleeper was on her feet in a flash; earnestly believing the girl to be in trouble. However, finding said girl hanging half-way on and off the railing to their room was admittedly terribly frightening all on its own... But finding a dazed _Cloud _dangling from her steadily loosening grip more than five stories above ground on the side-

Now _that _had absolutely iced her veins like someone poured liquid nitrogen over her nerve endings. And she wasn't including his twitching spasms and erratic breathing after she managed to heft the man back up- she literally had to wait out his fit; and it was the worst and longest few minutes she's ever endured since the burning.

And then there's Zack...

Tseng's cryptic mannerisms had never been clear; but if she didn't know better, she could've swore he was _trying _to hint something about it. The man didn't exactly hide his know-it-all demeanor; but _did _exhibit clear signs of his own confusion amongst this great mess. Whatever Tifa willingly passed onto him regarding Cloud certainly showed; and _that's _what concerned her most.

_"Give her the letter, she'll understand then. That's all I have to say to that."_

Tifa turned the letter over, sighed, and pocketed it for the time being. She'll have to give it to Aerith the next time she caught the Cetra alone; and that's something she intended to do right now before they left. If the girl would presumably 'understand' whatever Tseng suggested, mayhaps Tifa could get her day started with another way forward right from the get-go. With the weirdly cryptic way he replied to Tifa's last question, she couldn't help feeling that maybe this note could be related to Zack somehow.

_Its time for a little chat._

She packed away her things, double-checked them, and left the room with the toat thrown carelessly over her shoulder. She glided out to the lounge room and found the inn's owner sitting at the table, alongside Cait Sith funnily enough. To Tifa's pleasant surprise, she saw a pouch of coin being slipped to the owner; and she couldn't help thinking if Cait was perhaps giving the financially poor man back the money he lost in their game. She smiled a bit, the sight lifting her spirits a tad. Machine or not, Cait clearly had a good heart in him somewhere.

Upon sensing her, the pair turned and matched her own expression, their smiles wide. "Top to the mornin' to ya, las," Cait began blithely, choosing to ignore the obvious display of his kindness sitting between he and owner. He even lifted his crown like a little top-hat, his tail bobbing around in an excited loop. "D'ya sleep well?"

Tifa nodded, briefly looking around for Aerith and the others, but saw no signs of them. _Come to think of it_, she suddenly recalled. _I didn't see their things in our room either. _"Where're the others?" she inquired.

"Your friends went to make sure they have everything and took it out to your vehicle," The inn keeper added this time, his smile particularly wide. "I'm guessing they didn't want to bother you."

Cait's toothy grin was only matched by his vivacious energy as he said, "Aerith's going on about how soundly you were sleepin'; so she didn't bother ya. Right now, they're outside just a sittin' about doin' their own thing."

Tifa hummed, deciding to look for the flower girl right then. She glided past them without another word, stepping dazedly out into the high morning sun. By its position in the sky, its easily close to noon; and the humidity was already _stifling_. Tifa glanced around the village clearing next, noticing that most of the citizens were already out and about. If anything, they came off as relaxed in some way; creating a rather strangely tranquil scene that briefly brought Tifa back to the busiest of days in the slums. Its a bittersweet observation; and one she forcibly shoved aside as she continued eyeing every individual for her main target.

_There._

The girl was sitting in front of the Fairs house in some sort of old wooden chair, with Zack's mother beside her in a matching seat. The two were apparently getting along well; if their expressions were anything to go by. They wore the same jovial smile; a sign that whatever subject they've already been over hasn't at all involved her missing son. In hind-sight, its probably for the better Zack's mother had Aerith as a pleasant distraction from whatever worrying thought plagued her mind on the daily.

The horrendous image of this sweet woman bent over her everyday house work while fighting any advent tears or stray reminders of her missing son kept Tifa in place; and she couldn't help feeling like a true intruder as she looked on. However, she didn't want to wait around either- As the group was supposed to have an early start as it is. If they waited _this _long just for Tifa to get up, then chances were they're going to leave pretty soon once they saw her out and about.

Tifa sighed, but eventually meandered over with a reserved mask set in place. She mustered a fleeting smile as well, but knew Aerith would likely see through it- the girl was nothing, if not _unnervingly _perceptive.

"Hey," she nodded demurely. "I'm not interrupting anything important, am I?"

"Not at all," Aerith waved it off, her ease helping Tifa relax somewhat. "I was just thanking miss Fair here for her corn biscuits. She actually showed me how to make them this morning!"

"Did she now?"

The older woman reached over for a covered tray sitting on a tiny stool beside her, pulling back the foil revealed the aforementioned morsels to her. "I made enough for your friends," she genially replied. Her eyes were a lit with bemusement as she went on, "Your blond friend seemed especially partial to them; he started taking them by the handfuls once I told him they're for you and your friends. You've all been good to us folk here in Gongaga, so I figured a little breakfast before your trip wouldn't hurt."

"You didn't have to go through the trouble," Tifa almost winced, but fought the temptation down. Instead, she took one of the baked loafs from the tray with a nod in humbled gratitude. Its not like she could say no to such hospitality- especially considering just how kind the Fairs were to them despite being strangers. Chances were, these people couldn't afford food that much- they and the rest of the community here must grow and cultivate whatever they could from the world around them.

_Once upon a time, Nibelheim wasn't so different. Nor is Corel today. Maybe this kind of living is more common in this side of the world because of Shinra-?_

Tifa didn't need yet another reason to despise the company; she had enough motives right now as it is. However, the apparent poverty of the towns they've come across- including the Junon harbor town, came unbidden to Tifa's whirling mind. Her inner, abhorrent fire burned anew; and it reminded Tifa just how much she _hated _her current foe.

"Barret loved them too," Aerith giggled, her warm resonance getting Tifa's attention once it strayed. "It was pretty funny watching him, Cloud, and Mr. Greg sit and munch on them like a bunch of old men going senile; talking away their troubles. On that note, I can't wait to bring this recipe home to mom. She'd been wanting to try a new breakfast treat."

Tifa didn't miss the wistful lilt in her voice; but understood the sentiment perfectly. However, it didn't stop Tifa from plastering a matching smile to her own face as she painted the picture of the three aforementioned men chewing away at the muffin-shaped loafs. She easily imagined Cloud and Barret going a row or two a couple of times; with Greg throwing in his two cents seeing as he described himself as a "trouble maker" with a grin. They'd bicker, settle, and probably talked about getting an early shot in the morning just for shits and giggles.

With that strangely tranquil thought in mind, Tifa decided to indulge the invitation. With a polite "thanks" to Mrs. Fair, she tentatively bit into the warmed, buttery fluff- shocked to find that its airy taste abruptly threw her mind back to her days living with her father. The rare times Tifa didn't cook breakfast, he'd do it instead; and while he wasn't perfect, his biscuits were the stuff of legends to young Tifa. At the very least, the freshly made bread also immediately woke up her wriggling gut from its sluggish quagmire; and she wound up eating the whole thing. She did her damnest to beat down the thickness budding in her throat from the memory; and she inwardly swore to ask Aerith for the recipe later on.

All the while, Mrs. Fair merely looked on; smiling a little more widely herself as she watched Tifa's dull expression shift. "Feeling a little better, dear?" she gingerly inquired when she watched the flashing influx of dangerous emotions briefly flutter to the surface. She looked a little concerned for a moment, but visibly relaxed when the younger woman smiled back earnestly.

Tifa nodded, her mood having indeed lifted- _a bit_. "I'll have to make this for Marlene when I see her next," was her carefully chosen words. "I couldn't help thinking how much she'd enjoy having these."

"You know, her father said the same," Mrs. Fair amicably bantered. "While he had a couple, he mentioned something about a wee thing being attached to your hip. I asked if you're the mother, but he said something about it being complicated-?"

"She's adopted," Tifa shrugged. "And yeah, its a _little _complicated."

The woman nodded sagely, deciding to best drop the bitter subject and tactfully swept it under the rug. "Whatever the case, did you need anything in particular? I mean, if I can help somehow-"

"You did plenty," Tifa ever-so politely interjected. She eyed the biscuits however, and pointed at them, "Although, if you wouldn't mind-?"

The woman eagerly passed the tray, encouraging Tifa and Aerith to finish it. The younger pair accepted, and Tifa went back to the original, albeit grimmer reason for her approach. "I wanted to ask," she began in a near mutter. "Could I borrow Aerith for a few? I didn't want to interrupt or anything-"

Mrs. Fair nodded, smiling anyways and slowly rising to her feet. "You weren't interrupting anything at all, dear. We were just dallying about like we're thrice our age is all. Of course, if you needed to come inside-"

Tifa shook her head once, not wanting to discuss anything sensitive within proximity to this already stressed-out woman. She politely deflected the suggestion with the idea to get Aerith to help her find Yuffie; seeing as the youngest of their party had a tendency to vanish at brief, albeit suspicious intervals. The mention of the name however certainly drew Aerith away, as Tifa expected. She felt a little bad for lying to she and Mrs. Fair, but it wasn't anything detrimental or dangerous.

The women thankfully headed off, all the while Tifa weighed how she was going to best approach this. She wanted a nice, private place to speak at; but there wasn't exactly many ideas open. She opted instead for a little walk, hoping to high Hell that no Turks were within the region anymore and they might've moved on. Tseng _had _mentioned something about keeping Scarlet appeased; so perhaps that suggested AVALANCHE's momentary peace.

_Maybe that's why he told me that. Because he knew I'd be talking to Aerith-? _Tifa frowned, not noticing her consternated expression was garnering the flower girl's attention beside her. _Man. That guy is always so many steps ahead of us... assuming he really __**did **__plan this before-hand. So, did he premeditate this, or not-?_

Tifa decided to drop that for the time being; seeing as all this was doing was infuriating her. Nonetheless, she decided instead to remain on the move while being mindful of their environment; all the while confiding in Aerith's keen insight to help her ascertain whether or not they're truly alone. This said, Tifa paused and turned to Aerith, hackles raised subtly.

"Are we alone?" she forwardly began.

Aerith blinked a couple times in surprise, tilting her head to the left in the most minimal display of apprehensive nuance. "This isn't really about us finding Yuffie, is it?" she asked rather cautiously.

_Yup. Might as well call her a mind reader._

"Its not," Tifa decided to be honest here; seeing as keeping secrets from Aerith seemed borderline impossible. Last night, she swore to herself to be more open with her anyways; so she might as well start _today_. "-I needed to talk to you privately before we go, seeing as I don't think we'll have that many chances 'til late tonight. To be fair, I felt like I need to tell you _now_, ya know?"

Her hushed urgency was enough; Aerith's demure expression shaded over with a strangely somber but stern expression as she meticulously weighed her words. After a she spent a better part of a minute sizing up Tifa's expression, Aerith nodded anyways; proceeding to close her eyes and _listen _in that weird, unexplained way of hers- Its a something Tifa knew she wouldn't ever understand even if the girl explained it. On the side, Aerith didn't much care for discussing her unusual powers; a tic that's most likely borne of years worth of well-honed secrecy. After a minute or two like this, Aerith opened her eyes and nodded; her expression politely guarded; wary.

"Okay then," Tifa put her toat down and rummaged through it; finding Tseng's letter still sitting in the slit in the bag's lining. "I wanted to give this to you last night, but you were already asleep. I was told that its something only you and Tseng know-?"

"...Tseng?" Aerith's crystalline greens flashed, her throat jumping once.

Tifa hummed an affirmative, handing the flower merchant the note. "Yeah. Ran into him last night during my walk; I'm pretty sure he singled me out," her smile was tight as she said this. "-He said he wanted to get this to you a couple of weeks back, and you asked a favor of him or something? I dunno." She shrugged, "I thought he was lying, but then he encouraged me to ask you about it. He also asked if you'd burn that note once you read it-?"

She couldn't even finish her explanation or summary before Aerith busily tore away the waxy seal and unfurled the note; her eyes wider than platters. Her breath became forced, and it prompted Tifa to wonder if the note was indeed a threat ordering her surrender. Tifa's already fragile calm was just about to give way to searing anger as it had yesterday; until she heard a hiccuping cry escape the other. Aerith slapped a hand to her mouth, choking on whatever shock bloomed inside. Tifa blinked, feeling something inside of herself curl into a tightly wound ball sitting heavy inside her gut.

"Aerith?" she cautiously murmured.

The aforementioned girl's expression was actually kind of hard to read; seeing as there's so much going on Tifa couldn't quite place any of it. She steadily drew up her rueful gaze, a watery sheen filming over but not quite spilling forth. "What... what else did he say?" she whispered, the paper trembling in her white-knuckled grip.

Tifa frowned, wondering if she should ask for the details of the note first but was oddly hesitant to oblige, "...He said a lot of things. I actually don't think I'll have enough time to explain it all." She folded her arms, forcibly drawing her attention away from Aerith's more intense one. "I uh... I asked him about Zack- And all he said to that was that I needed to give you the letter in return. He said you'd understand or something-?"

Aerith twisted the paper around in her hands for a second, and then carefully asked, "Is that _all _he told you?"

This time, Tifa shook her head, "Eh, not really? I mean, how do I explain this?" She weighed her questions regarding Nibelheim, and Zack's confirmed involvement in it. "If I didn't know better," she tried instead. "-I'd think he was _trying _to drop hints about him. Its not like he'd actually told me anything outright, but he wasn't exactly skirting it all the way. I was left with the impression that if he didn't want to tell me anything, he'd divert the topic entirely."

Aerith nodded at this, her expression hardening in a way Tifa found nearly uncharacteristic. She twisted the note around in her grasp, her gaze seemingly transfixed upon it.

"Uh, Aerith?"

"Hm?"

Tifa couldn't help noticing her strange behavior; like she was suddenly spiritually disconnected from her own body or something. Her eyes certainly beheld that sensation. "That note," she went on clumsily, not used to being this frank. "Does that thing really have anything to do with Zack?"

"...It does," she replied in a semi-despondent way. She locked eyes with Tifa; her expression possessing this wizened, owlish glimmer that almost unnerved the martial artist. Its a sight that sometimes gave Aerith the bearings of someone far, _far _older than her years. After a moment spent being stuck in this weird staring contest with her, Aerith handed the note to Tifa; seeing the question in her gaze. "You can look," she nearly whispered, her voice the smallest its been all morning.

Tifa took that second to read it; knowing that Aerith will likely toss it into a fire in the village before they left. She wound up reading and re-reading it; marveling at the shortness of it. After spending an indecisive moment trying to decipher its meaning, she handed it back to Aerith while shaking her own head. She couldn't make heads or tails of it; silently in awe of how Aerith managed to glean so much information from just a single, cursory inspection of a few, vague words.

**...**

_**All 88 have been **__**successfully**__** delivered.**_

_**...**_

After finding her nerve, Tifa then asked the other girl, "What does that even mean?"

"It means Tseng knows where he is," she replied after the pause. "Or at least, where he's been up until two weeks ago. Maybe."

"Uh-" Tifa blinked, her wine colored eyes flitting from paper to person.

"You said Tseng wanted to give this to me the last couple of weeks, right?" At Tifa's nod, she added, "-Okay then. Then that means he's seen Zack at around that time: Tseng's usually quite literal with his words; so when he says two weeks, then its _exactly _that. He knows what Zack's been doing, and possibly why I haven't heard from him." Her smile was a little tight there, "As it is, I've sent Zack _exactly _eighty-nine letters in the years he's been gone; although Tseng doesn't know of the last one. At the very least, it looks like the rest _finally _made it to him, after all this time."

"Wow," Tifa shook her head again, awe-struck at the determination of the woman before her. "Eighty-nine letters... In, what, four or five years?"

"Yup."

Tifa nodded, her gaze wandering back to the forest floor, "So Zack really _is _alive..."

"...Tifa, you don't happen to know Zack, do you?" she lowly asked, her query more like a statement in its firmness. The question just popped out of nowhere; taking Tifa off-guard briefly.

_Oh, goodie. Why was I hoping to put this off?_

"I... Kinda? I dunno _how _to explain it," Tifa lowered her arms and arrested her morose expression back onto the ground between them. Its always just a little too hard to maintain eye-contact with Aerith at times. "-But uh, yeah? Or at least I think so-" she trailed off.

Her not-so-eloquently worded reply left the girl scrunching her pretty brows every which way. "You don't sound so sure," she mumbled.

Tifa sighed, "Its... really hard to explain. I don't really understand it myself. By the time I actually met this guy, a lotta crap went down." Her shoulders slumped heavily, "I never spent enough time around Zack to fully commit him to memory; and I wouldn't have had more than days to know him, at best. I was always suspicious of any members of Shinra to begin with... so I never bothered with him. Heck, I'm not even sure if it _was _him I saw."

_Holy crap. Now I'm making excuses. What do I have to be sorry for anyways? Not saying 'hi' to him? _Tifa stopped her rambling, trying to reorganize her chaotic spiral.

"What did he look like?" Aerith carefully asked, as if to help Tifa regain her nerve and to be sure of whatever she saw- not that Tifa didn't appreciate the off-handed and unintentional attempt to get her memory aligned.

Inwardly, she truly and dearly appreciated Aerith's subtlety- no matter how undeserved it felt after hiding what she knew like some sort of convicted felon. But now? _This _was her best chance; and one she decided to come forward with despite her remaining reservations.

Tifa lifted a hand and held it at a height roughly a whole foot higher than she was, still somewhat hoping she'll get his description wrong for some unholy reason. "He was... this tall, right? Dark, slicked-back, spiky hair? Sky blue eyes?" Aerith's tentative nods were helping, so she haltingly went on, "'Kay. Did he have... what, a cross-shaped scar on the left cheek...? Walked with a strut? With a custom-made sword?"

Aerith jumped in place, rapid-fire nodding. "Yes! It didn't happen to look like the Buster sword, did it?"

That did it for Tifa; whose reply was only to nod helplessly at the confirmation.

At this, Aerith's hands dashed to her breast and lips, the note crinkling in her grip. "When was the last time you saw him?" she hurriedly asked, her expression border-line desperate.

"That's the thing..." Tifa tamped down on the need to stutter, knowing she was effectively bull-dozing a gaping hole into Cloud's story- an event she once wanted to believe in. _This _was the part she had been hoping to avoid: "I _thought _I saw him in Nibelheim while he's on assignment?" she admitted with sheer reluctance.

"Wha- With Cloud...?" Aerith blinked quizzically, tilting her head; likely she was wondering why Cloud never mentioned him.

Tifa flapped her lips, not sure as to how she could approach this: _This _was why she wanted to wait until later on to say something; to mentally steel herself with enough time to finish sorting through this information herself- to save it for another walk, maybe. Nonetheless, the truth was there; and even Tseng has confirmed as much. This said, Tifa wanted to nod, but it also meant Cloud's position in the story was to be put into question. She had no idea how she's going to explain this when she didn't know how to word it herself.

Aerith was expecting an answer however, so Tifa tried gently supplying, "I... yeah, Zack did come to Nibelheim..." She watched the flower girl's expression turn into blatant alarm at this; knowing that it meant her boyfriend had been exposed to such perilous danger. Tifa continued trying to skirt around Cloud's inclusion in the meantime, "And he uh... I don't remember much after a certain point, but I think he tried to help around town? I dunno. He came off as social or something, and kept himself busy waltzing in and out of town the way he was-"

This wasn't untrue; Zack had a tendency to bounce from one place to another during his stay; flitting between the manner, the mountain, and the residential area on a daily basis. After climbing the mountain originally, Zack seemed to remember its lay-out easily enough so that he never bothered Tifa for another 'tour' of it. And during the day of the burning, she did recall just enough so that she could've swore she'd seen him in the reactor when they went to confront Sephiroth. But again, details continued to elusively hover out of reach; leaving a pained expression in place.

This same expression Aerith certainly took note of, her own stare equally pragmatic. "Tifa," she began uncertainly. "You really don't remember that much, right?"

The martial artist shook her head, feeling drained. "Not on the last day, no. Cloud didn't exactly lie about it, but I'm not sure if he remembers a whole lot of it himself," she hugged herself, shaking her head once. "I... He certainly knows more than me."

_Or at least, I thought he did._

Aerith's gaze went to the forest floor, her emerald eyes troubled. "But then, that would mean Cloud would've lied about that-?"

"Huh?"

The flower merchant's frown stuck, even though she didn't honor the underlying query with a reply initially. After a minute in this ponderous reverie, she glanced at her note, pursed her lips, and leveled a strangely sharp gaze at Tifa. Her jaw set, her verdant eyes luminous.

"Zack never struck me as someone who wouldn't at least let me know if he's moved on or something, so I was left to assume the worst-" Her eyes filmed over again, but nothing spilled forth, "So then, having heard you say he was in _Nibelheim _at the time of the burning, I now know something certainly _did _go wrong during his job... as I've always feared. However, that still can't quite fill his five-year silence."

Tifa listened to the tangent, holding the note as Aerith went on, "-And then, just a few months ago, Mr. Greg told me Cissnei came along and mentioned something about trying to find Zack... and then there's this note- Now I'm positive." She nodded with finality, her gaze a perfectly steely epitome of resolution, "Zack's in some kind of trouble; or at least _was_. That, or he feels like he can't reach out if it meant anyone he knows would be hurt somehow. Either he's in danger, or his comrades are instead- like Mr. Greg said."

"And seeing as the Turks seem privy to him," Tifa mused aloud, fidgeting with the paper in hand. "Wouldn't he be a target for them? And if he was, why would Tseng try to tip us off if it meant Zack's loved ones would know, and it implicates him somehow...?"

_The Hell is that man angling for? Surely he has another motive for this? Why is this so freaking confusing anyway?_

The other shook her head, "I don't think Tseng would imprison or hurt Zack; unless he felt it necessary for Minerva knows whatever reason. In fact, I think Zack even mentioned something about being on 'good terms' with Tseng once, although I don't know if he explicitly said friends... Or maybe he did. Hm."

Tifa huffed, not quite sure whether or not to believe it herself. Zack seemed to be a good sort, but him being friends with someone like Tseng was hard to envision- _Especially _after all the crimes the latter has committed. Moreover, Tseng is Aerith's most natural enemy: So for Zack to tolerate the Turks while dating Aerith was either a sign of neglectful ignorance (which wasn't likely), an act of genuine patience, or he felt confident enough in his abilities to protect Aerith. In all likelihood, the latter seemed most sensible seeing as Aerith had dated this man for this long; and has been patiently writing to him for all those years _dedicatedly_.

"Well, at any rate," Aerith sighed, oblivious to Tifa's straying thoughts. "-Even if they _were _somehow friends, I wouldn't think Tseng would actually do anything deliberately antagonistic to Zack- if for my own benefit. Tseng really _does _care for those he considers his friends and allies; even if his moral compass is more than just a little skewed."

"Then... do you think he's somehow covering for him?" Tifa cautiously inquired, finding it rather ponderous that the Turks would actually do such a thing after help destroy an entire section of the city for Shinra's sole benefit. On that note, it sounded entirely _**absurd**_.

_Like seriously. Why save one man when they've killed so many more for less or greater reasons? Especially if this Zack somehow deserted Shinra-? Assuming he actually __**did**__ do that after a disaster like Nibelheim. Tseng would have to rightfully do his job and..._

Tifa shook her head, tutting under her breath.

Aerith must've been wondering the same thing herself, shaking her own head once in mirrored confusion. "...At any rate," she sighed. "Tseng will certainly know what happened to him, and why I never got a letter back- And I aim to find out the next time I see him, _or _Cissnei."

Tifa nodded, deciding right then and there to help the girl see this through. There's too many things about this whole debacle that rang false; even though the Turks had never really concealed their apparently fickle natures and methods. Hell, people had always shot off their mouths about the Turks; never hiding their shared disgust of the insidious nature of their work ethics and methods. But now to consider this whole new, possibly 'merciful' side to the story... it was too hard for Tifa to wrap her mind around; considering the 'impression' these guys left on her after Sector Seven's fall.

Just then, weirdly enough, a long, lone keening broke the conversation; a resonating howl echoing across the forest. The girls stopped and listened; instantly anchoring the noise to Red as a source.

_"HELLOOOO! YOU GUYS!" _was the next thing they heard; the girlish pitch a distinctive trait of Yuffie's. _"WHERE THE HECK ARE YOUUUU?"_

"AERITH! TIFA! WE'RE GONNA GO!" Came Barret's gravelly voice.

Tifa clicked her tongue, shrugging at her female companion. "Later?" she murmured just between them, knowing that Aerith would catch onto the meaning behind the singular word.

The Cetra smiled, nodding once. "Later," she mouthed back.

And with that, Tifa followed the Ancient as she led the pair back to town; deciding to go over this a little more thoroughly before her date with Cloud later on tonight. And now, considering the varying factors and mysterious behavior of Tseng in particular, Tifa could already tell she and Aerith wouldn't be mentioning anything to Zack's family until they knew more. For she and Aerith, the search for the truth had finally begun in earnest.

When the group went to say their good-byes to the Fairs, Tifa did everything she could to keep her mask in place. Aerith did the same, although her expression had this tightness that's only detectable if you'd been around her long enough. The flower girl had gotten quite good at concealing her emotions otherwise; despite being a strangely open individual.

However, just before she turned to leave, she leaned towards the Fairs and said this just between them, "I'll find your missing son, and I'll bring him back here by _force _if I have to." Her eyes glinted like polished gems, her smile gone. Her tone beheld a knight's finality as one swore an oath, "-And I won't ever stop looking until I know the whole truth. This I promise; I'll come back here with him, one way or another."

Tifa felt her jaw go unhinged once, she and the unsuspecting Fairs sitting in awe-struck confusion as they all watched Aerith turned militantly on the sole of her boots and march out of Gongaga like a SOLDIER on a mission. Tifa actually had to remind herself to wake up and leave; tossing the unmoving couple a wane glance.

Tifa would never again doubt her steel.

* * *

~777~

Upon arrival at Runen several hours later, when the two were sure of their privacy, the older women decided on a concrete game plan:

First and foremost; don't tell _anyone _ about Tseng's meeting with Tifa. Aerith had certainly respected that request easily enough; although Tifa needed a little more convincing. She just didn't have the same kind of experience of dealing with someone of Tseng's character as Aerith; finding it strange that the Ancient could so readily lean on the man's information despite being on opposing sides. However, as opaque as Tseng is, Aerith seemed to know when to deem his word as genuine; and said in this instance, its best to err on his side.

Secondly, make sure to not mention anything of Zack in front of the others anymore; seeing as Aerith had informed Tifa later on when they arrived that the name seemed to _trigger _Cloud somehow. Tifa had inquired about this, shocked to know that Aerith had in fact asked Cloud about the origins of the Buster sword just _days _ago. As it was, Aerith could only shake her head and sulkily stated that Cloud may possibly not know or _remember _Zack- he said as much prior to his break-down. Its a wild hunch, but Tifa and Aerith's conjoined gut instincts couldn't both be incorrect on that note; on top of Tseng's own account.

Thirdly: Although suspect, Cloud had in his own, subtle way incidentally agreed to help Aerith pin Cissnei down the prior day; and its something the girls still intended to make use of. Cloud's brute strength, Tifa's raw might, and Aerith's dogged determination within themselves would certainly be enough to corner the smaller girl should it be needed. And while they're on the same subject, if Cloud could help, _use it_. Tifa just didn't have to mention Zack or correct his ambling memory; given that's what it really was.

Fourth: Go on said date with Cloud and finish evaluating his mental state. If it truly did appear faulty, as even Tseng had admitted, chances were _he was right_\- despite what Tifa felt about the Turk. Assume Cloud's memory unreliable until proven otherwise. Go along with him, and make sure he remains well.

Fifth, _do not let anything slip to Yuffie. _If Red caught wind of it, Aerith didn't seem too upset about that possibility. But it felt better to keep the others out of the loop for the time being until they knew for sure how to properly approach any discernible problems. Barret would grouse them about it, probably. Cait Sith was still new; so its for the better he didn't know anything yet anyways. But Red? He'd be fine to know if he figured anything out.

At this point, Aerith merely didn't want to say anything to him mostly because she's under the assumption that Red will stay in Cosmo Canyon once they get there. She didn't want to burden him with this weird portent just before he got home and they had to set off again soon after. Red should stay home with his family without anymore worry or stress; especially since it was easy to forget Hojo had made his life miserable too.

And speaking of the latter... It drew the women to the last and final detail of their plan: If and when they ever saw Hojo again, don't EVER let him out of their sight. Stop him, corner him, and get the man to talk about what the loving _Hell _he could've done to Cloud; assuming Tseng's words continued to hold true. And even if he somehow magically _didn't _do anything to Cloud, well- Beat it out of him anyway.

Hojo's only ever done more harm than good during his time in Shinra; making him a danger to most people in general. Besides, he could very well be connected to the weird Sephiroth-related incidents cropping up all over- _and maybe even why Zack vanished_-? Tifa had inwardly wondered, upon remembering Tseng saying something about Cloud being involved in whatever Hojo's done. Chances were, Zack's disappearance could've been tied into it; although the guess was hap-hazarded. Tifa really had no way of knowing for sure if something like that happened anyways; and so she didn't bring it up with Aerith. She didn't want to frighten her with that possibility when they still knew so little anyways.

Nonetheless, Cait Sith had reported Shinra's vested interest in finding Hojo; so beating the company to him was a race they're willing to bet on. What better to spite them than by taking their public enemy number one? If nothing else, Barret certainly wouldn't reject the idea.

And now that all of this was set in stone, there remained just the last piece- the part where they can mosey forward with a semi-clear conscious despite under-lying motives:

Tifa had to spend some time with Cloud _tonight_; all the while they're staying in a decent place. So, despite their depleted wallet, Aerith suggested she improvise and just go for that walk; to not worry about using money to have a decent time- and seeing as the girl actually may have experience on the matter, its not like Tifa will go blind.

Tifa however had _never _done anything remotely like this (unless you count the whole Corneo thing); but that wasn't something Tifa wanted to consider. Fishing for Intel is one thing; but to put yourself in such a situation where you felt it _mandatory _and not just for the simple pleasure of that other person's company is another. Tifa didn't want to treat an outing with Cloud like she's hunting a Shinra informant: It just didn't sit right with her.

So, Aerith went to quickly remedy Tifa's mixed feelings by asking, "Well, haven't you _ever _just informally hung out with Cloud before, as friends?"

"Of course I have," Tifa griped. Although, she hasn't exactly done so in recent memory- not since before the explosion of the fifth reactor if her memory was correct. On that note, she wasn't sure if she'd actually hung out with him that much even _before _Nibelheim's burning; scraping the darkened confines of her mind for that elusive good memory.

"Then treat this as a normal date," Aerith gently encouraged her. "Its not like Cloud's going to shut you out. If anything, I think he's quite willing to let you in this time around. He even asked _you_ to come; not the other way around. Just let him guide you around while you have a good time, all the while keeping a close eye on him. That's not so hard, is it?"

Tifa sighed; knowing better than to refute that. "Yeah, okay," she nodded. "You're right."

"Of course I am," Aerith winked. "And, I know you got this. You'd be surprised just how easy it is to enjoy yourself with the right company; and you'll actually know what to be looking for."

"Yeah," Tifa bobbed her head again, letting the tension seep out of her.

Not moments after that, the former bar-tender found herself gliding over to the men's room, suddenly feeling a chilling anxiety cripple her steps for some unknown reason. She couldn't find a definitive reason for it; so she tamped it down with every ounce of her iron-clad resolve. Tifa tamed the beast, leashed it to the very back of her mind, and knocked before she lost her grip.

And sure enough, Cloud himself was opening the door with a polite mask of patient curiosity. He locked eyes with Tifa, and blinked in pleasant surprise. "Heya," he said simply, seemingly unphased by her presence.

Tifa ducked her head, her hands flying behind her back before she wound up wringing them where he could see. "You uh... you still wanna walk with me?" she opened up with instead, knowing that simple was best- that, and blunt-force frankness. She inwardly thanked Aerith for the approach; knowing that she'd be tongue-tied otherwise. Although, its made her wonder about Aerith's apparent experience; and if its all things she learned from Zack. She made a note to ask later; given the subject wasn't too sore a topic for her.

In the meantime, Cloud's reply was an easy nod; lips twitching at the corners. "Not like I have anything else to do," he shrugged with a building smile; almost as if he could sense Tifa's innate nervousness. "Actually, it sounds like a great idea. I've been wanting to look around the place anyway."

Tifa hummed in agreement, forcing herself to keep her gaze level with his more intense, mako-charged one. She gesticulated a bit to indicate her readiness, with Cloud nodding again in acknowledgement. The man quickly dipped back into his room, mystifying Tifa as she watched him pick up a purple bag with gold trim and gently 'throw' it gingerly over his shoulder. It clattered noticeably, but the sound was muffled.

_Has he been preparing for this beforehand? _She felt her throat jump a bit, not quite sure as to how to feel about this other than _flattered _in some way or another.

Despite this, she didn't miss his side-swept glance back towards the Buster sword, which was leaning innocuously against the right-hand corner of the room. Cloud obviously thought long and hard about whether or not to bring it; seeing as every where he went, the blade made him appear suspicious or intimidating. The Buster Sword was a scary eye-sore and easy way to get identified by passing Shinra; but useful should any fights actually occur. But perhaps in this case, discretion was the better part of valor. So, Cloud merely shut the door to the room, leaving the Buster sword behind.

An act he would never again repeat.

* * *

~777~

A plain walk was fine for Tifa, but Cloud had _other _plans.

They headed in the direction of the main thoroughfare towards the center of town, Cloud taking the lead while his female companion lagged uncertainly behind. Clearly, Tifa's mind was all over the place; her expression troubled. She was only _vaguely _aware of her surroundings; her eyes glazed over as she watched her own feet. He had no idea when she started getting so spacey, but it was mildly disconcerting.

_Aerith's right. She needs a decent breather._

Cloud gently prodded her in the arm with his elbow, meeting her stare head-on when she looked up; he needed her to focus on something that wasn't her inherent troubles. "Hey," he casually began, hoping his tone came off relaxed enough. "You know you don't hafta worry about anything tonight. Its not like there's any Shinra around. And even if there is-" He lifted his arm again, this time to gesticulate his next point; a faint glow indicating the presence of materia. He passed her his surest grin, "Its not like we're unarmed. Yunno?"

"I... uh," she mumbled. "I know... But its not..."

She trailed off, baffling Cloud somewhat. When she showed no inclination to continue though, he tried to pick it back up; not that conversation was ever his forte. "That's what your walks are for, right? To clear your head?" he went on amicably.

Tifa pursed her lip, giving him a lop-sided shrug, "Well, yeah. I guess."

"Now that I think about it," Cloud smirked, still trying to lighten her up. "You always did like hiking around, right? Before I went to Midgar, I thought I'd see you around the village just about every other morning meandering about. Not really hanging around the other kids so much as just _walking_. Yunno?"

The woman hummed her ascent, as if she wanted to latch onto the topic despite the fact it could bring up the painful part of their lost home. "Yeah," Tifa thankfully confirmed; a sign that she may be willing to open up for once. "I did pace around a lot... I used to get told off for it whenever I did it in the house. My dad thought it especially annoying when I went 'clopping' around the kitchen after breakfast."

_She's talking. Let's keep it going._

"Is that you you took that job being a tour guide?" Cloud gingerly prodded, suddenly wondering when and why she decided to go for it.

"That's part of it," Tifa shrugged. "The other part involved me just getting a real job and learning how to 'adult' for the very first time. At the very least, its easy money for something I enjoyed doing for a little while."

"Uh... 'easy'?" Cloud couldn't help asking upon remembering some of the more dangerous creatures haunting the Nibelheim mountain range.

Tifa noticed his skepticism, but actually shrugged with a small, easy enough smile creasing her lips. "There's a reason why I started taking martial arts lessons," she supplied.

"All just for a hobby?" Cloud couldn't help wondering aloud.

"I take my hiking trips to be a _very _serious hobby, thank you," Tifa's expression brightened a touch more as she weighed the look on his face. Apparently she found it humorous somehow. "To be honest, getting lost in the woods is the least of my worries. I always did manage to find my way back."

Cloud snorted, but couldn't help grinning in return. Thankfully, getting Tifa to open up about her past hadn't been as hard as he thought. Vaguely, he couldn't help wondering if there's a reason for it, but decided not to address that. At the very least, he managed to get her speaking without shrinking into herself for once; and its a moment that gladdened him immensely.

Anything related to Nibelheim was never so intermittently brought up; as if its a mute taboo between them. However, Cloud couldn't help instinctively wondering if Tifa's troubles were still connected to something beyond the 'purge'. And despite his earlier thought pertaining to not bringing up anything 'troubling' in particular, their choice to never mention Nibelheim at all sometimes rubbed Cloud the wrong way. He understood the whole 'blotting it out' part pretty well; but carrying on with that mentality would only create more problems than it solves- _Especially _since Tifa felt like she's been deliberately putting a gap between them.

And that just won't fly with him. Not after all the trouble he's been through just to keep their promise.

Cloud lead her off the main road, diverting their route to the east instead. Tifa of course kept in stride with him, although her curiosity was plain to see on her pretty face. "We're we headed anyways?" she finally asked.

Cloud shot her another confident glance, "Wherever our feet take us. Personally, I wouldn't mind finding a less crowded part of town." Although his eyes remained on the path ahead, Cloud kept Tifa at the corner of his peripherals in order to gauge her reactions. "Being surrounded by smart-asses like Barret can drive ya crazy," he went on. "How the heck did you even put with the guy for so _long_?"

Tifa's next expression was good-humored, "Its like learning what kind of drinks you like and how much of a tolerance you build up: Its an 'acquired' taste." She actually giggled a little at that. "Although, Barret's not so bad after a while- that and having Marlene around made it easier. Surely you're used to him by now?"

Cloud jerked his shoulders in a haphazard show of casual dismissal. "Meh. Kinda sorta maybe," he said leveling a hand around chest height. "He still pisses me off sometimes."

Tifa kept on smiling, but her face looked borderline tight. Cloud wasn't entirely sure why however; but continued to sweep side-glances at her anyways. "Well," she began again in a careful, but uncertain tone. "I can't help wondering... When you went off to join SOLDIER, did you ever do anything interesting that sticks out to you? Like, a mission or something you find most memorable."

Cloud blinked off his initial shock; deciding that Tifa's question, although somewhat out of the blue, wasn't unwarranted. She'd reasonably told him what she did in the years following his absence (although vaguely); so of course she'd be interested in any stories from SOLDIER. Any decent person would ask in all actuality.

Cloud was about to reply, but stopped when he noticed the route ahead of them. He smirked, and continued to lead Tifa out of the town- to which the girl finally noticed.

"Uh, Cloud-?"

"We're almost there," he gently smiled.

Cloud didn't realize how much he hated cities and larger towns until he was out in the wilderness after their escape from Midgar. By now, standing outside the main Runen city limits, he couldn't help feeling even more rejuvenated here. Gongaga hadn't been bad admittedly; seeing as there had been a certain rustic 'charm' to it that he'd found tranquil in some way or another. Nonetheless, he continued to lead Tifa up a path; which split off of the road.

"A mission that sticks out, huh?" Cloud amicably brought up, reminding Tifa of her previous query.

"Uh, yes!" she nodded, seemingly eager for anything he could bring up.

"Lemme see... ah... Oh, hold on. You need to watch your feet here," Cloud puffed as the path started to incline upwards; Tifa doing the same behind him. To be honest, hiking at this time of night was dangerous, but he knew they'd be able to jointly deal with whatever threat could be lying in wait. If anything, a little late night 'exercise' wasn't out of the question for him; seeing as they hadn't any decent fights in days.

He suddenly recalled Tifa's inability to see in the dark as he could; so tentatively, he reached out and clasped her hand. He did everything he could to fight his need to immediately shy away from the gesture. "Is this okay?" he inquired, wondering where this random boldness had emerged from.

Tifa had been briefly taken aback by the gesture, but understood the reasoning for it. Her fingers slowly interlaced with his; although Cloud couldn't feel it much through his gloves. "Its okay," she confirmed, her tone betraying her ease.

Cloud found his throat suddenly too thick; the intrusive sensation certainly not welcomed when he recalled the girl's earlier query. "Ah... There's this one that sticks out, yeah," he began, deciding to use conversation as a means of _not _thinking about their physical contact- a something that's never really indulged in outside of combat. "I think it was... what, six or so years ago?"

"That long?"

"Hm. Remember Cait Sith mentioning a dude named Genesis?"

Tifa hummed her affirmation.

"Well, I know he said nobody remembered him, seeing as the media picks it heroes," Cloud went on, stopping briefly to get his bearings. "-But he's not exactly somebody you'd easily forget; I certainly never did. Genesis was considered one of the 'big three'- which consisted some of the best and strongest in _all _of SOLDIER. That included him, Sephiroth, and some other dude. Can't remember his name so well."

Tifa shook her head, "Can't say I've ever heard of the 'big three'."

The blond shrugged, once again going on the move as he considered which way to take without getting lost. However, the hair suddenly rose on the back his neck; the man stopping for the briefest of seconds to listen to environment around him: The animals were a little quieter, but Cloud liked to chalk it up to just he and Tifa passing them by. Still, this uneasy prickling sensation of being _watched _bit into his nerves; leaving a frown in place. He didn't say anything however, instead choosing to pretend nothing was amiss.

With practiced ease, he casually went on while subtly watching the bated world around them, "Well, Genesis was _definitely _no pushover; as he's probably the most pro-active and ferocious of the bunch. Sephiroth, when he was sane, was actually quite different from him in a lotta ways." He strained his hearing as much as he could in the pause between sentences, not letting Tifa into his wariness. "-Anyways, when Genesis went rogue, there was all kinds of assignments given to all branches of the Shinra military just to deal with him. I was sent to a place up North to help route him out and find any bases of his."

"Right."

"So," Cloud lifted a heavy branch and let Tifa go through first. He let it go and quickly matched his gait with hers; hesitating to take back her hand for a couple seconds but indulging in the temptation anyways. He felt cheered as Tifa clasped it back rather strongly; betraying her own likely mutual feelings.

"-This town I went to is called Modeoheim," he said with a squint; the name eluding him for a few seconds. "-Although, by town I think the right term for it is 'ruins'. The whole area literally looked like the stuff of ghost movies or somethin'. Between the dilapidated buildings, the lack of people, and the weird _silence _that seemingly permeated the region- You literally couldn't hear anything but the snow falling around you. Its _that _creepy."

Cloud pretended to shiver at the memory for dramatic effect; still taking careful stock of his surroundings unbeknownst to his companion. His glacial stare searched the brush around them, but nothing appeared suspicious nor out of place- and yet his earlier feeling of being watched remained.

_We're being followed._

"...And as it turned out," he continued, his eyes flashing. He was glad Tifa couldn't see his stiff frown right now, "-Genesis made a secret base on its outskirts. It was at a point in the mountain where there's no reception; so me and the rest of the team couldn't get word back to HQ-"

"What did the team consist of?" Tifa pressed.

Cloud scratched his head for this one. Suddenly, just out of nowhere, his head rung; making him stop dead in his tracks. He immediately fought it off; shaking off his fleeting disorientation and not at all noticing Tifa's concerned glance.

"I uh... Its just a few guys," he continued, the words an oily slick coating his mouth. The headache was gone as quickly as it came; with Cloud promptly forgetting about it. Minor inconveniences like surprise migraines weren't a concern to him at that moment. "-Its a scouting party consisting of one SOLDIER, two security grunt, and a Turk- a delicate operation I wound up spear-heading. We ended up crashing there when our instruments went on the fritz; and its an interference thing that fried our phones too- I think there was a jamming signal or somethin' around." He snorted there, "So we went up the path, and found the base nestled nicely into a natural dip in the mountainside; you wouldn't have been able to see it from the air. I guess in hind-sight, the crash was a blessing."

"Huh."

He took a breath, covertly listened to the forest again, and then, "And conveniently enough, we found Genesis inside the base. That red-leather wearing bastard's a real tough psycho too, believe it or not. I mean, I know Sephiroth was a real _bastard _for doing what he did to Nibelheim, but Genesis-" He actually stopped to level Tifa his most severe look, "He's a whole new breed of sick fuck: How the hell can you possibly describe somebody who takes a buncha of his loyal followers, equals, friends, probably his own _students_ from SOLDIER, inject them with _your own DNA_, and then throw 'em away like typical cannon fodder into Shinra hands without remorse? Like seriously, where the fuck would you even get that idea?"

Tifa's expression steadily more slack-jawed as he went on, "And you wanna know what else? I heard Genesis even killed his own _parents _in cold blood and buried 'em out in the yard like they're stray animals." Cloud almost spat; but felt it too rude to do around them right now, "And then he turned his old home into a military operation that eventually got squashed by Shinra. He probably didn't even care what happened to it for all we know; he sure left it behind in a hurry."

"That's... That's _horrible_," Tifa mouthed, her eyes a rich shade of doe brown in the darkness. _Like almonds or crushed walnuts_, Cloud somewhat distractedly figured.

"-Yeah, I know. I'm telling ya, that guy couldn't have been more sick in the head-" Cloud scoffed contemptuously, "I'm never, _ever _going to justify Sephiroth's actions, but if you had to step back and actually look between him and Genesis and try to draw some comparisons, you'll wind up with more contrasts than anything. What Sephiroth did in Nibelheim was could even be considered small-time; to the eye of an outsider anyways."

Tifa nodded, at that, but her expression remained pretty hooded.

"To be honest though, I digressed," Cloud went on, stopping only to shrug off another oncoming migraine. He was glad Tifa couldn't see the grimace on his face right now. "That mission in Modeo actually lead into me fighting him, and thinking I actually killed him," he nodded, suddenly feeling sure of the mission's events. "But Genesis never truly died. He just hid away and licked his wounds."

"Didn't Cait Sith say something about him fading into obscurity?"

"Yeah. Genesis became pretty much washed up after a certain point; not that I know what point that was. Hell, it might've been just after Modeoheim," Cloud considered this one quite carefully, but wasn't sure where in the story that fit. "Eh, well, Modeo was a success in some ways; despite how messy it was. Another loony deserter was caught, his copy factory disabled, and Genesis got quiet for a while. But you know, sometimes I can't wondering if there's more reminders of his influence that we see daily, but don't actually _see_. Yunno?"

The woman seemed to be lost in the story, for all intents and purposes looking like she was logging away every detail of his retelling. Eventually, she said, "Do you ever think that maybe, this Genesis is still _alive _or something? No one seems to know for sure what happened to him."

"Your guess is as good as mine," Cloud shrugged. "Wish I can tell ya for sure what happened to that guy. Although, he was suffering from some pretty unstable condition; it probably killed him for all we know. Its no secret that his health was suffering; you could just see it on his face. Seriously."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They called it degradation," Cloud replied, seeing the man standing before him in his mind's eye. "He _literally_ looked like he had parts and pieces of 'em flakin' off. Like old paint in a moldy house- _Ugh_."

Tifa shuddered beside him, her grip on his palm tightening once.

Cloud couldn't have been happier to put it aside as the pair came across a clearing, stopping a top a hill cresting the outer reaches of Runen's more rural areas. "I guess this place is as good as any," he muttered as he hefted the near-forgotten bottles off of his shoulder.

By now, the two were over-looking a vast majority of the landscape; the town of Runen looking very much like a smattering of glittering coals on mounds of bright embers and low flames; burning upon a bed of black and dark green coals. The surrounding land swirled and circled the vicinity in a graceful embrace; framing the panorama nicely from the bottom. Above, the glittering stars, although few in number, still out-shone the brighter lights of the town. Their gentle glare refracted and bent like gems under candle-light; swirling around the tops of the buildings with ghostly ease.

Cloud however wasn't looking at the fantastic art piece come to life in front of him, so much as he weighed the figure _beside _him: To say the least, Tifa's expression couldn't have been more _divine _the longer he looked on; not knowing how long he'd been standing there simply appreciating the company he's thus far kept. The long walk here certainly felt well worth it; and he knew in the morning, no amount of Barret's bitching would ever sour his mood.

Just as Tifa began to snap out of it, Cloud did as well; coughing a little while holding up the bag he'd brought with them. "You feel up for a little drink?" he offered lowly, feeling braver with every moment that's crept on by.

Tifa's mouth slipped open, and then soundlessly slid shut as she took the bag in hand. She loosened the gold-colored draw-strong and pulled out their bounty: A bottle of Corel's Kiss XLR, with a pair of brand new shot glasses in their box. They were generic plastic cups; to make sure they wouldn't break during their hike here.

Tifa's lips quirked upward, her expression an endearing glow in the faint Runen lights. "So, just how much of this trip was planned?" she playfully jested.

"Eh... maybe just about all of it," Cloud relented, feeling a little sheepish but not at all sorry. "I would've taken you to the bar, but I didn't think you'd felt much like lounging anywhere public right now."

Tifa's next smile was velvety enough to nearly knock the wind out of him, "Well, if its any consolation, you just might be right about that."

All of Cloud's earlier bravado was seeping out of him; leaving him feeling boneless from the waist down. It took all of his will not to melt into some unholy puddle as he and Tifa took a seat on the carpet-like grass. They stretched out their legs out in front of them, Tifa prying the bottle open as Cloud tore apart the shot glass box. He stuffed the cardboard into the bag and set it beside him, and then sidled timidly up to Tifa with glasses in hand. Tifa filled the cups and capped off the drink.

And then they simply sat there, taking in the occasional shot in silence. No chasers, no rush, just clean air and good company underneath the intertwining town and star light- That, and the distracted niggling that made Cloud's neck itch. He still couldn't help feeling like they're being watched; but at least it didn't leave him feeling so uneasy as it had earlier. If something really _was _watching them, its thankfully leaving them alone; not at all feeling like a hostile presence.

Cloud still wasn't going to let himself get sloshed though; just to be sure.

"I gotta ask," Tifa asked after a short while. "Where did you get this booze? Isn't it expensive?"

Cloud chuckled, knowing that eventually, Tifa would've asked. He still chewed on the reply before he said anything though, "...Cait Sith apparently knows how to get around. He managed to help me get this stuff before-hand."

"Eh, _how, _exactly?"

Cloud bobbed his shoulders, "He went into town and started doing... whatever he does. He seems to know how to make some good money. He magically managed to pull enough gil out of his furry ass and told me to spoil you. I'm not kidding-" He saw her glance at him, and he can clearly see her consternation. "The booze and glasses weren't stolen though; that I can assure you. I was able to get these with what he gave me."

"So... he has exactly _how _much on him now?"

"Dunno. Apparently its enough to get us an inn somewhere else between here and Cosmo. I have no idea how he did it."

Tifa shook her head, "He's something else. Sometimes I can't help thinking about how concerning his behavior is, and if we should be more suspicious."

Cloud agreed whole-heartedly to be honest; as that's a subject he's wrestled with ever since the cat joined their entourage. He still dismissed it though; at least for the moment. Instead, he filled his glass again and held his breath; throwing back the shot in one nigh-tasteless swig. It wasn't so strong anymore; but then again, the drink was smoother than its other variants. He had to be careful and pace his intake however; still taking careful consideration of the world around him.

"Eh," Cloud decided to lay back; resting peacefully back into the grass with the illusion of lowering his guard. "I don't worry about it _that _much; seeing as its helping us get food and rations. If I had to guess where he got it, I think there's a casino or somethin' near here. He probably funneled it from a machine for all we know."

"Hm, maybe," Tifa sighed. She set aside her glass and curled her legs inward, her eyes rested upon the town before them. "I'm still gonna ask him when we get back though."

"Well, I'm no hurry," Cloud loftily inputted. "Whenever you wanna head back, lemme know. Anytime's fine."

Tifa hummed again, "I'm not in any rush."

"Cool."

Cloud watched the stars overhead, distractedly privy to Tifa's every movement. His hearing was generally better than most peoples', so it made him somewhat hyper-aware of her nearly imperceptible sighs and occasional shift in position- all the while he listened for their invisible follower.

Eventually, Tifa reclined in the grass as well; her hands rested on her middle. He tossed her another side-long glance, feeling a twinge of satisfaction in seeing her own apparent comfort. Her eyes were closed, her expression almost serene as she rested in the bed of verdant grasses. She was blissfully unaware of whatever her earlier troubles were; as it seemed the whiskey was finally taking its effect. This would've made Cloud happy that his earlier plan was working, but now he had to deal with the tiring presence of their followers.

_I shouldn't have bothered with the booze, but..._ he huffed. _We both needed to to do this tonight. I don't think I can remember having a decent night like this. At least whoever's around us is leaving us alone for now._

He knew he'd be alright if a skirmish happened; he hadn't drunk enough to have a properly decent time of it though; and he'd been carefully monitoring Tifa's intake as well. The woman knew how to hold her liquor; and it wasn't like she was going to allow herself to get drunk anyways. Not when the two were all by their lonesome, and all the protection they had was each other in a possibly hostile land. For all Cloud knew, she could've sensed the presence of their pursuers too; but she hasn't shown any signs of noticing them so far.

After a moment spent simply absorbing her contented appearance though, his attention flickered back to the sky above; his mind a warm murmur that beheld no resonating pain or budding headache for the moment. His increasingly heavy lids slipped shut a few times, his breath escaping him in long sighs. He didn't bother keeping them open after a certain point; feeling his own languor creep steadily in. For that one moment, he forgot about the existence of Shinra, their followers, and all of their other problems-

The world felt... alright.

Not perfect perhaps, but _okay_ in a sense that's borderline harmonious; and it wasn't a feeling Cloud was actually familiar with. It struck him as alien; and he suddenly felt nearly _unsettled _with the weirdly peaceful atmosphere in general. He'd been so accustomed to conflict that perhaps this breed of lull was merely imaginary; an illusion that many people have long since deluded themselves with as a means to blot out their many, many problems. Complacency, at its finest.

And yet, it wasn't quite that either.

Something else has blended itself seamlessly into their shared quietude; a pull in the earthy air that breathed life into their lonely amity. Cloud couldn't word it, couldn't fathom it; it merely drew his attention back to the woman beside him. It was a light distraction akin to a buzzing; if he had to give it words. This niggling voice was trying to tell him _something_, but it only continued to elude him. Instead, he was left feeling restless in some way or another; his eyes gluing themselves to Tifa once again. Cloud frowned, wondering what in the bloody Hell was nibbling at his psyche.

Eventually, he looked away; his crystalline glare arrested onto the vast blueness above. He shuffled his shoulders, and let his eyes slip shut again in reverent silence; his earlier unease slowly trickling away as water through the smallest of fissures. He stopped feeling so anxious in general; his mind occasionally awash with calm vacancy-

That is, until a spike of ringing, animistic reflex stampeded its way through his body; prompting him to sit up and roll protectively over Tifa.

A pinching nip bit into his back; all the while a soft _tink _resonated from his pauldron. He blindly reached over his shoulder and quickly yanked out whatever the irritating needle-sharpness was; his teeth gritted with budding fury. When he unwound his fist, he took in the sight of a thin, tubular shape with a clear substance within; a _syringe_ if he was seeing it right.

"C- _Cloud_?" Tifa sputtered beneath him, her cherry eyes suddenly locking onto the thing in his hand. Fear visibly lanced through them, her mouth slightly agape.

Cloud clucked his tongue, his mako eyes arrested at some distant, focal point beyond the whispering bushes. "Stay down," he ordered as he slowly extricated himself from her. He stood up in front of her; his aforementioned anger suddenly roaring to life. He crushed the dart in his fist; wiping the unused liquid off on his combat trousers while a snarl ripped across his face.

And that's when he _sensed_ it.

He couldn't word it, couldn't hope to understand it; but he could feel _something _writhe within him. It sang at the back of his mind, and then quieted as quickly as it emerged. The brush muttered around him; the enshrouded murk clutching viciously around the tree-line like some tangible barrier into the featureless void beyond. The clutching dark bled forth from the bracken; the steady breeze attenuated around them as silence claimed the cries of the unseen wildlife overall.

And when the grass crinkled next, Cloud was whipping around with a hand flying to the woman behind him. He yanked her around to keep her positioned at his back; all the while his free limb snapped like _fangs _into an arm covered by an armored bracer. Goggled eyes barely inches above his own glared him down; a predatory glint flashing warningly beyond the falsely ruby gaze. A breath crackled through the respirator, the sound close to a growl of a thwarted carnivore missing his target.

And that's where they stood; for one whole, bloated moment. For an entire sixty seconds, Cloud kept his feral scowl arrested onto the man; recognizing him to be Cissnei's familiar from the boat. The voiceless other loomed tall over him; but Cloud wasn't cowed in the least.

If anything, Cloud couldn't have wanted this _more_.

"Ya know," He seethed through gritted teeth, his smirk a poisonous thing. "If you wanted a fight so bad, you didn't have to skulk around for as long as ya did. Though to be honest, I've kinda been wanting to hit something lately. I guess you'll have to do."

The other man- _Glaive _if Cloud was remembering it right- raised a brow, as if mutely humored by the challenge.

Cloud kept a firm hold of him, but saw from the corner of his peripherals a fist lash out like a pale snake with blackened fangs. Tifa's fist almost connected; but the man ducked and twisted free of Cloud's vice. He wrenched free by applying pressure to the blond's thumb; and then pirouetted away with the unnerving grace of seasoned weasel dodging an angry cobra. Once he had a comfortable distance between them, he loped hungrily around them in a semi-circle; his gaze strangely intimate as they remained fixated on Cloud's own pair.

"Cloud. I think he just darted you," Tifa hissed beside him.

"Yeah. I'm starting to think the same thing," he murmured back.

"You think Cissnei's around?"

Cloud didn't remove his stare from the other as he replied lowly, "...Maybe. That might've been her that shot me." _But why do I feel like I'm wrong?_ He couldn't help wondering this as he remembered that unholy sensation from earlier; the forest's increased tenebrosity being held like bated breath. The animals' abnormal lack of noise was also a tell; and one that unnerved Cloud as he tried stretching his senses behind his visual seeing range.

_Its... Its someone or __**something **__else. But what? And why is it helping this guy? It feels... wrong. Wrong. _

_**All wrong.**_

"What do we do? I think he's waiting for that thing to take effect-" Tifa's voice snapped the man to back to present; surprising him initially. He blinked off his his earlier perturbation, once again focusing on the threat he _could _see.

No sooner had she said that however, Cloud certainly felt the faint dregs of inebriated fatigue begin clawing at him; tangibly dragging at his eye lids. On the surface, he remained as calmly unaffected as possible; knowing that the dart's meager dosage wasn't enough to drag him down. Still, despite this silver lining, he had no Buster Sword to appropriately defend himself with; and it seemed the dart had an incredibly hyper-active fast-acting potency that worried Cloud. A vexing situation, if nothing else.

_Guess I'll have to improvise. I'll be alright so long as I keep Tifa beside me._

Cloud was glad he still had his materia at least, holding up his fists in a loose parody of Tifa's stance. He knew he wouldn't be able to do a lot of the fighting; seeing as the increased blood-flow will make the dart work faster and more effectively. He'll have to face this as carefully and as tactically possible.

_Keep Tifa from getting darted; she should be able to hold her own in a one-on-one match-up. I'll probably only get in her way... If memory serves- _Cloud eyed the larger individual, taking careful stock of his SOLDIER-esque musculature and blades sheathed at his back; no long-sword was thankfully present. _I don't think he'll be able to last long in a fight. He's hurt, or weak somehow._

As if to confirm the blond's suspicions, the man didn't budge; instead choosing to wait out his prey for when they inevitably tire. Cloud knew that Cissnei or _whatever_ the fuck it was in those bushes will try to stick him with another dart; once the opportunity for it opened up. Cloud however knew better than to stand around and wait for it to happen. So, he decided to open the fight with something a little more unexpected-

Just as he was about to lift his arm, Tifa leapt into the battle with her fists raised as well. However, a _flash _flickered into view; and it momentarily stopped the blond nearly dead in his tracks. When it subsided, Cloud noticed Tifa's frozen form; her body in rigid relief as all of her weight teetered her over. Cloud himself remained unaffected; seeing as one of his own materia happened to be a Time type. Paired with a status ward, the materia had shielded him from the Stop effect. Immediately, he freed Tifa of her current ailment and wasted no time in casting another spell.

He summoned; and did so _far _more quickly then he ever did in recent memory. It might even be considered over-kill; but in a battle with an unknown like this Turk-associated enigma before him, one can't be too sure. The sigil blossomed before him just as Tifa raced past; the earth shaking beneath his footing. He lashed out an arm; a primordial rage seething inside that furiously scorched its way through his limb and out of his fist like a tangible storm. It kissed the earth; and began to _burn _all of the greenery around him. The ground rent with an enormous _CRACK_; a blood-chilling roar bouncing around them all.

Cloud heard another noise; a low sound that would've been lost to anyone else with unenhanced hearing. He ducked and rolled as another dart whistled past him. Thankfully, the motion didn't interrupt the summoning process; as the furious Daemon suddenly swept into his line of sight and bum-rushed the masked Turk close-by.

Said man was already having a rough time of it; defending against Tifa's calculated barrage with clear strain. However, when Ifrit went rushing at him with a heated whirlwind funneling around his immense form, Glaive was seen drawing his weapons without anymore pretense nor lingering hesitation. One of his glaives ringed with ice; and he cut mercilessly at the beast just as it raised a flaming fist. Tifa back-pedaled briefly to give the significantly larger creature room on occasion.

Glaive wasn't _that _defenseless or weak after all: He blocked the oncoming summon first; both sets of heavy arms bouncing as man connected with daemon fury. Muscle danced; and ice crackled as it cruelly clutched the creature's knuckles with a layer of biting frost. Ifrit snarled as ice coated his taloned hands and snap-froze his digits; but it didn't stop the slug-fest from coming. The newly enraged creature bombarded Glaive with yet more blows; but eventually gave up when he's met only with wintry steel. It jumped away, unleashing a wretched volley of novic fire-bursts; Glaive merely retaliating with a careless cut through all three Firaga shots with an ease that continued to unnerve Cloud.

_He's not trained like a typical Turk. He isn't like them at __**all**__._

Another whisper beyond the tree-line signaled the intent of the unknown _other _hiding away; Cloud already at Tifa's side as he caught another dart meant just for her. He crushed it as well, and then turned his attention back onto the woods. He needed to know where the other person was; and stop the slew of sleeper meds before he got hit again. Another decent shot will certainly see to his inevitable fall.

_But where-? Where are they? Why aren't they properly attacking? Why leave their partner dangling when he's weak? Unless-_

_**BANG BANG BANG BANG-**_

A flurry of shots rent the air; all aimed at the summon on the battlefield. Bullets ruptured through the world with thunderous fury, all meeting their intended target with a precision that couldn't be dissuaded. Despite Ifrit's sudden, inhuman speed and jerky movements, no volley was seen missing; different spots on the creature's body suddenly erupting in spurts of black blood like molten jets from a quaking volcano.

In the mean-time, Tifa had been reaming into Glaive with strangely sober precision despite her drink-induced buzz; a shock that's no doubt blew the Turk-associate's mind throughout the entire fight. In fact, just to get her to off of his ass, he once again used Stop; quickly seizing the woman in an seemingly unbreakable hand-hold that didn't last when the wounded Ifrit charged into him again. Glaive was forced to let go, jumping away with his blades bared like fangs.

Cloud undid the spell again, watching Tifa hiss in brief pain from the brutal hand-hold. Still, she didn't stop as she assaulted the man anew; her screaming flurry of attacks a bastardized bombardment that threatened to turn the tide. When the gunfire sang across the knoll again though, it further hindered the summon's movements; stopping the creature mid-swing. Tifa ducked low to the ground almost belly-flat by reflex; Cloud doing the same close by.

One more frost-bitten blow was all it took; Glaive roaring into the air with a warrior's ferocity gleaming behind his glowing gaze. His Ice-brand stole its way into the Daemon guardian; burrowing straight into its heart and effectively ending the mortal connection between this creature's spirit and its temporary body. Summons never did have a true physical form in a sense; its only when they're called into the living world that their 'bodies' materialize into tangible being. This said, the creature died in a rush of ashen air; a vortex devouring the equally charred and angry ice-blackened flesh. The smell of scorched earth and fluttering embers where all that remained of its existence.

In the lull that followed, Cloud was once again beside Tifa with his frustration sewn in place. He paused long enough to see Tifa yank a dart from her side, his nerves immediately icing over as he eyed the insidious syringe in her gloved fist.

"Should've known," Tifa snarled, crushing the glass cylinder in his grip. "Fucking Turk bastards."

Cloud glared back at the man, who could only coyly hold up his hands like, _Yep. I had one this whole time. What're you gonna do about it? _He didn't even need to hear the words to know it.

Cloud assumed he must've stuck her when he had her in that hand-hold. With this in mind, he bared his teeth; feeling his body grow increasingly heavy as he sat idle. All of his little movements were just jarring enough to allow the tranquilizer to do its bidding more swiftly. Already, Cloud felt the desperate need to simply plop his ass down into the grass and just shut out the world for a little while. The booze wasn't helping matters either; although its buzzed warmth had been long-since forgotten.

"Shit," he muttered, leveling both fists at the masked Turk.

Glaive started to prowl around them again; a wolf circling his quarry in impatient excitement. His breath was audible though; his individual pants heavily distinguishable through his respirator plate. Cloud was satisfied to see that Tifa's earlier attacks have at least connected here and there; the Turk having been unable to deflect her assault. It was good to note that Tifa seemed better at hand-to-hand then even the trained Glaive. If it wasn't for his materia and apparent battle experience, she probably would've come out the victor between them.

He watched with grim humor as Glaive paused once, fighting a cough that's likely building in his throat. He turned his head and lowered the mask just enough to spit off to the side; his chest shuddering once. Cloud couldn't make out much though; not with the hood shading most of the man's features and smearing it into vague shapes further distorted by the darkness. His steadily blurrier sight wasn't helping matters neither-

_Oh. OH._

Cloud blinked, blinked, and blinked again. Keeping his eyes open was a chore, but still he remained standing. The tranquilizer must've been stronger than originally perceived, but it wasn't enough. Not yet.

Or at least, not for himself.

Next to him, he felt Tifa slump into his side, no longer able to keep herself upright. The dart had worked amazingly _far _faster on her; seeing as her more slight body was still in fight or flight mode. Moreover, it had been in her body for a much longer duration; certainly spelling her defeat. She wasn't down and out quite yet, but another half-a-minute will see to that.

"Tifa. Tifa!" Cloud bumped into her, resting his hands on her shoulders.

She grunted imperceptibly at him, her eyes flickering lazily. At least she's still responding to him; but he knew that too would soon change. In fact, she only slumped closer to the earth, muttering incoherently once or twice. As soon as she was on her knees, he knew she was pretty much finished.

Cloud felt an intrusive, _terrible_ fury grip him; sobering him in large part. Already, his dart was wearing off in ebbing waves; its flimsy effect quite minute compared to what it's doing to Tifa. It could've been attributed to his SOLDIER physique and endurance though, in hind-sight. Nonetheless, he wasn't going to let this damned coward stick anything else into her; or do whatever the fuck else he planned on doing.

_**I'll break his damn neck first!**_

Cloud didn't dare leave Tifa's side; but he knew the fight will end once he's officially down and out- not so much his female companion. Instinct told him Glaive was more or less interested in _him _anyways; not that he could reason out the logistics of that sudden assumption. Still, Cloud was throwing his arm back out; his God-tier level rage fueling the visceral flames licking at his nervous system. It emerged as a bright funnel of lurid orange and searing yellows bordering on white; the fan of flames angrily tearing their way between he and the masked Turk.

The man blocked it with that same shield that once protected Yuffie and Red; but it didn't double up and explode as expected. Instead, the man let the spell die after the initial defense. He stood idly, almost relaxed as he seemed to weigh Cloud's increased activity. His _mako _eyes glittered in the dark like icy shards stained with vague hues of copper and rust from his goggles; resting his blade over his shoulder and tapping it like he's getting bored.

_Come at me, _it playfully said. _I dare you._

_**SMUG MOTHER FUCKER.**_

Cloud let out an animistic bellow as he lunged out his other arm; this time calling upon a roiling bolt of lightning fast enough to nearly catch the man off guard. The other reacted by summoning the shield yet again, but remained seemingly unperturbed by the attack. However, Cloud followed up the attack with a blind charge; knowing that his materia is no longer effective against this man so long as he possessed that annoying shield spell. With Tifa and the summon out of the picture, there wasn't much else he could do. He still didn't go too far from her; though he suspected these guys didn't really want her anyways.

Which was just fine with him.

Cloud's fists came flying; an innate volley of commands learned from some distant aspect of his past demanding he move his body this way and that. He listened to it; crashing into the larger man with every ounce of his rage and muscle. Glaive had tried to swing; emphasis on _tried_. Cloud intercepted his oncoming attack and clasped the Turk's hands; ramming the rest of his body and skull into his chest as hard as possible. Breath whooshed out of Glaive in a gusty torrent that fluffed the blond's hair; despite the respirator in place. If anything, it had been knocked loose.

He kept on going; lifting the man totally off of his feet and _slamming _his armored ass into the ground like a champion pro-wrestler. He wrenched at the masked man's hands; all the while head-butting him into submission without much heed to himself. Blood flecked here and there from their foreheads; indicating Cloud had broken skin on both he and Glaive. He still didn't stop though; instead keeping on with the head-knocking as his hands remained clasped his foe. Lights flashed before his vision; but Cloud knew his enhanced durability could take the blows; no matter how concussive.

The Turk wasn't done yet: The man retaliated with twist of the wrists and clapped Cloud with a palm strike to the chin; teeth chipping painfully at the tips. Then, he bucked like a mad march hare and threw off the lighter-weighted blond with near ease. The pair rolled, with the larger man lunging back at him with arms reaching out. He threw his blades aside, his eyes cutting glass shards that gored into Cloud's own pair. As Cloud before him, he rammed into the smaller individual while rolling; bringing the blond into the air and tossing him aside as if he wasn't hindered by his breathlessness.

Just as Cloud was about to leap back up, he felt the greater weight of the other man suddenly atop him; his gloved hands wrenching Cloud's arms behind his back. With an armored knee-cap digging between his shoulder blades, Cloud could barely do much more than wriggle and groan. He was trapped; and there's no way he was going to out-muscle this behemoth straddling him.

The battle was over.

The other took a moment to catch his breath, wheezing noticeably and slumping like he's disoriented or nauseated; Cloud certainly hoped so. If it got bad enough, maybe he could get free. Cloud wiggled on occasion, but still couldn't do much more than breathe and churn dirt under his body. He kept on feeling out a weakness; but the man wasn't budging despite his inability to continue.

Cloud hissed between this teeth; feeling a needling pain bury itself into his arm. He couldn't see what the other was doing; but it felt like another needle was being shoved into him. It didn't last more than a minute; but when even that was over, Cloud felt something else get shoved into him: Another pinch went right into his _spine_; and the pain stemming from that was somehow _greater _than Glaive's earlier blows. The blond wriggled around as much as he could; but Glaive's insurmountable weight kept him thoroughly pinned.

After a moment or two passed in this manner, Glaive withdrew; throwing himself out of Cloud's reach just as he got free. The spiteful cuff missed; much to Cloud's chagrin.

"Fucking bastard!" Cloud cursed, lurching back to his his feet and moving backwards towards Tifa's unconscious body. "The Hell did you do to me?!"

Glaive drew himself to his fullest height, dusting himself off like he just had a dull time of their encounter even though he'd been on the losing end not that long ago. He rolled his head, neck, and shoulders while stretching out like he's just pried himself from bed on a rough morning. He fixed his respirator next; which had been knocked askew but remained in a fixed position on his face. After a minute, he went and recovered his forgotten blades too; sheathing them in one smooth motion. And then, much to Cloud's befuddled shock, he brandished his prize as if to respectfully answer the blond's query:

"My... blood-?" He muttered under his breath, blinking off his surprise.

Glaive bobbed his shoulders at him in a mild shrug or show of dismissal; he couldn't tell which. And then, he pocketed the hard-won reward with a resigned huff. He then met Cloud's gaze with a more neutral one; his stare quite mild-mannered despite his earlier approach.

And just like that, he unhurriedly turned around like they haven't been fighting at all. Clearly, he was done here.

The sudden, unpredictable flip in behavior only served to confuse and enrage Cloud; but he didn't indulge in his flippant desire to pursue the other again. With Tifa lying catatonic at his feet, and with a clear difference in skill between he and the masked man, there's no way Cloud could hope to take command of the situation- especially since the enemy appeared to be retreating. Cloud could only watch as the Turks' new weapon skulked away, unable to say anything in the aftermath. The woodsy shadows engulfed him; his bulky out-line vanishing seamlessly into the bracken.

And with the thrall that once silenced them now gone, the nocturnal world breathed in belated relief; and the animals sang their symphonies anew- with only Cloud to hear.


	12. The Way Forward

_**Heya everybody! A new year, a new chapter. I apologize for the long wait though; my computer had taken a dump on me and I had to get it fixed. However, its not a permanent solution, so whose to say it won't set me back again?**_

_**So yeah. This chapter is shorter than the last few. But at least I was able to get it out to you less than week after getting my computer back; which means I've busted my blitzballs to get it out here. I was so excited to have my computer back, I went ham on writing this story out some more. I've already started the next chapter as a result.**_

_**Anyways, as usual, I want all of you to enjoy this one. I will certainly go back over this one and fix it in due time; but to be fair, I think I'll be going over ALL of the earlier chapters so I can fix the grammar mistakes that slipped by me initially and tweak the dialogue some. You won't know when I did repair what chapter, but meh.**_

_**Thanks for sticking with me this far!**_

* * *

~777~

_**-Mythril Shinra Apartment Complex: North of Corel-**_

Tseng was loathe to admit this, but even _he _had moments where his steel-clad nerves became brittle sheets that easily yielded to the slightest pressure.

As it were, having any sort of lone discussion with Rufus was one of those things that naturally psyched even _him _out. He always felt like its a probing evaluation of some kind; more or less a passive-aggressive interrogation meant to test his fragile loyalty to the company. An under-handed method to root out all of his more well-submerged secrets. And right now, there's no denying Tseng's apprehension as he approached Rufus's temporary office.

After his visit to Gongaga and getting as much information from Tifa, Zack, and the other hidden Turk operatives as he could, he came back here with Scarlet in tow. He was going to pack away his things and head back to Midgar the next day; needing to go over Cissnei's observations regarding Zack's health with the reclusive doctor. After that, he'd have to prepare for his next assignment in due time; whatever that may entail. That, and resume his search for Hojo when he wasn't coordinating the Septimus Sect on the side.

As for the president, he'd technically been around Rufus damn near three-fourths of his life, having watched Rufus grow into the man he was now, you'd think the two would be fairly close friends- Especially since they're around the same age with near matching demeanors here and there. Both were raised inside Shinra, trained to adhere and enforce its laws in similar ways too.

They however treated each other with the same amount of deference as any civil _acquaintance_, and it never seemed particularly natural. Tseng always had the inkling sensation of being on eggshells around him; even though its quite possible Rufus may not feel the same. If anything, he usually seemed to confide in the Turk in his own frustratingly enigmatic way, and has shielded Tseng and the other Turks from Heidegger and Scarlet's wrath on some occasions in the past.

Still, perhaps Tseng felt this uneasy for no reason at all. Maybe Rufus really was lending the Administrative Department of research his full support in a show of good faith- Not that Tseng felt it to be that way.

Not at _all_.

Slowly, he crept into the drab office and locked the door behind him; a weighty silence having followed him in as well. He stood at attention; hands behind his back and posture erect as he eyed the other man across the room. He'd long since plastered on his mask; knowing full well that some sort of intense informational disclosure was forthcoming.

Rufus was standing casually in front of the window, his back to the Turk. He didn't say anything immediately either, choosing instead to ruminate over what he's holding. It wasn't like Tseng could see it, but the Turk suspected he just may learn its contents before long- if his curling gut anything to go by.

"Tseng," drawled the other.

"Sir."

"Its good you've come so promptly," he began. He turned on his heel, his ice-bitten gaze flickering once to the other and back to his clip-board in mere nano-seconds. "-Despite how tired you must be," was his next words.

_...An informal greeting. Perhaps this conversation will be fairly lax?_

Tseng usually understood Rufus's ticks; but its never guaranteed an accurate read. Even to this day Rufus pulled cards Tseng was simply under-prepared for in the grand scheme of things. On a side note, Tseng hadn't actually slept that much recently; but it wasn't like the evidence of his exhaustion was something even his _own men saw_. So for Rufus to immediately pick up on this and bring it up at all only served to unnerve the man a tad. It always seemed like Tseng just couldn't conceal his internalized disquiet from Rufus. Perhaps the president knew him just a little _too _well.

Nonetheless, Tseng dipped his head in reciprocated sentiment; knowing Rufus has been doggedly up for no small amount of hours himself (or days, gods forbid). The man had been absolutely _determined _to find any and all information on Sephiroth and Hojo as it is. This in mind, Tseng somewhat hoped this fatigue has rendered Rufus's finely sharpened mind duller than usual. Not that he's ever been that lucky.

Tseng straightened up in the meantime, his obsidian stare carefully scrutinizing the other for aforementioned exhaustion. So, he tried in a relaxed manner, "And you, sir? I presume you haven't over-worked yourself just because I haven't been your body-guard in so long?"

Rufus smirked, but didn't chuckle as Tseng had hoped. "Oh please. I haven't had need for a nanny since I was _five_, Tseng. Although," he bobbed his shoulders in an insouciant way. "That hasn't stopped you from breathing down my neck in the past."

_A jest, but no answering scoff. He isn't pleased about something; but maybe it isn't something I've personally done?_

Tseng replied in a matched manner, "You've always had a tendency to dive into the more life-endangering of situations. Head-first might I add."

At this, Rufus actually _did _chuckle; but its fleeting in its existence. "I suppose that's true," the president eventually agreed, his smirk the barest of twitches.

Upon this observation, Tseng decided that he's (relatively speaking) safe for the time being. He sensed the impending shift in topic as well, decidedly reining in the situation and opening it up with a placid, "What can I do for you?" for good measure.

"Ah, right into the heart of matters," Rufus said, finally lowering the clip-board and arresting his glacial stare firmly onto the Turk. "As usual."

Tseng didn't reply, choosing instead to wait for Rufus to indulge the query.

And so the other didn't disappoint, "I've been wondering about the recruiting process in the Turks, more or less. As I understand it, you haven't succeeded in having that many this year. Has your newest member proven herself capable, at the very least?"

Tseng nodded with absolute surety, "Elena already knows very well what to expect in the long run. She had an elder sister in the Turks."

"Which one?"

"Emma. Also known as 'Pistol'."

"Oh yeah. I remember her now," Rufus nodded, his eyes flashing once. "She was the short blond one, right? Stubborn? Likes to make wry quips in tight situations?"

"The very same."

Rufus's expression was good-humored at least, "Right. So that's why Elena managed to get the uniform so quickly. She already knew the rules."

"That, and a more personal matter between she and her sister. They're quite competitive with each other," Tseng shrugged, carefully maintaining his relaxed air.

Rufus hummed approvingly at that, "Good. A drive to surpass her makes her useful- perhaps even deadly one day soon. And the other?"

"Hm?" Tseng blinked once, dearly hoping he wasn't talking about _you-know-who_.

Rufus offered the clip-board, which apparently held the documents of all active Turks, prospective trainees, and recruits in question. "The one that's out with Cissnei," Rufus specified, much to Tseng's innermost horror. "His name's Glaive, wasn't it?"

Tseng took the compilation and eyed it, indeed seeing the basic specs for the aforementioned man in question. He'd dearly hoped Rufus wouldn't go looking in the records for Zack's phony file- not that he would've done so _specifically _unless he'd already been tipped off about Glaive's existence from the Septimus Sect. This said, it could very well be possible he discovered Garm by honest mistake while he'd been looking up the current recruits. Its not like Hendel could've hidden it forever- especially not from _Rufus _of all people.

Hendel could've easily deleted it at a moment's notice, but it wasn't meant to remain outside the system for very long due to it being _completely and totally stupid and suspicious._ If Rufus had physically seen Glaive with Cissnei at any point and couldn't find him in said files in the registry, then things could've went south for her. Cissnei would've likely been detained; arrested for conspiring with a prospective criminal- which technically wasn't untrue either.

If anything, Rufus wouldn't have spared Tseng the lazy greeting earlier on if this were the case. So yes, Garm's existence was then presumed an honestly surprising discovery for Rufus; and he's merely inquiring about the current state of affairs in the Turks for right now. But still, with a physical file in hand, and an apparent lack of photo on the documents, Tseng knew Rufus wasn't going to let him leave without some sort of explanation.

On the fly, Tseng's words came to him; as fluid as water and just as conceivably smooth. "Ah. You mean Garm," he replied in a casual manner, his monotone dead-pan.

"Garm?"

Tseng nodded, "Its his face name. He asked us to abandon his birth name when he first came to us."

Rufus's lips thinned.

"-He's kind of like Nunchaku," Tseng admitted honestly, doing his best to make his delivery as satiny as possible. _A decent half-truth should do the trick,_ he figured. "A man whose eagerly left behind family to join the Turks. He's rather cheerful more often than not. He went to join the Turks for similar reasons as Nunchaku did."

Rufus had met Nunchaku before; and its something Tseng couldn't help banking his hopes on. In hind-sight, Zack _truly _wasn't unlike Nunchaku in a lot of ways; so it wasn't like Tseng was lying to him per se.

This said, and as if to help concrete Tseng's story, Rufus seemed to see something within the Turk's eyes that apparently pacified him. The president nodded vaguely, flipping his hair once. "So, he thought his life boring and is one of the few who admired Turk work, right?" Rufus assumed, much to Tseng's internalized satisfaction.

Tseng nodded, throwing in a thin smile and another little shrug, "As most everyone else did typically before they joined the company. Yes."

"Hm. Alright then," Rufus nodded, helping settle Tseng's nerves in the process. "If I may ask, how long has he been doing field work? You'd think it be too soon for someone of his like to be handling this kind of operation. And why do I not see a profile shot in his papers?"

_He must truly be exhausted if he bought everything else so easily. Either that, or he's remaining skeptical and just doesn't show it. I hope its the former._

"As you've said at the last board meeting," Tseng continued. "I have a severe man-power shortage; Sephiroth's apparently about, and with a man being downed by AVALANCHE, I couldn't spare half-measures. I didn't want to wait another few months to get Garm integrated into the system fully. His dossier being incomplete was a result of this rush."

Rufus didn't seem as easily sold by this, but still he listened, his gaze completely void of any inflection.

"-If its any consolation," Tseng meticulously tried, suddenly realizing his position was growing steadily more precarious with each damning word. His next reply was going to be what makes or breaks his fragile cover. Its bad enough he sounded like he's making excuses. "I know the man well. If nothing else, I can vouch for his abilities personally. I have him training with Cissnei so he can gather experience far more quickly. Should he try anything suspicious though, Cissnei has explicit orders to dispose of him accordingly."

Rufus's gaze more or less lingered on calm disinterest at first, but then he nodded as he absorbed these words. Tseng was effectively sticking his neck out in more than one way or another here, but its the only thing that could sell Zack's position to him for the time-being.

"Hm. Harsh, but I suppose its adequate," Rufus eventually conceded. "I still find it a little odd you've given Cissnei such an order for someone you say is good, but after what happened with dear old Veld-" Rufus actually _laughed _out-right here; and its an ominous sign, if nothing else. "Then I suppose I'll have to confide in your judgement, Tseng. Thank you for your honesty."

Said Turk felt his shoulders incrementally slump, although the knot in his innards stubbornly remained.

"So Garm is almost as familiar with Turk regimen as Elena?"

"That he is. This I assure you," Tseng promised, seeing as its indeed the truth.

Rufus pulled out a chair sitting off to the side, sliding into it with liquid ease- another sheer sign of his good mood. "So you say you know this Garm, correct?"

"Yes."

"Hm. An old friend perhaps-?"

When Tseng supplied the correct response with a nod, Rufus threw himself back in his seat and tented his hands on his lap. His expression flickered once, but Tseng couldn't quite make it out.

"Well, I couldn't imagine you'd assign just any old familiar unless he truly did know what he's doing," Rufus mused, although his tone was unnervingly hard to decipher. "Does he have any family or something in Shinra?"

Tseng carefully rendered his response here, trying his best to keep up his collected facade. "No, but he did have an active social life. He had a lot of friends in the company. I met him through a shared acquaintance several years back, and he showed interest in joining. He finished his basic training this year and was eagerly looking forward to proving himself in a future mission, as Elena has. Ever since I've sent him out, I've only seen steps forward that would've taken anyone else twice as long to complete. He's the reason why we got our results from Nibelheim back so quickly."

"Huh," Rufus bobbed only one of his shoulders here. "Still, I can't help wondering if this man is so trustworthy. He's not even registered as an official member yet. Any reason for that?"

Tseng's shoulders squared once again, his monotone drier than usual, "Chain of command being in disarray hasn't helped. I'm afraid the incident where Sephiroth first resurfaced has effectively slowed the processing. Hendel is on it as we speak; if he hasn't already finished. Once that's done, Garm will be offered a basic Turk uniform and a fully authenticated I.D. He's already had his screening and medical inspection."

This was, in fact truth. Tseng has had a tough time with the disjointedly failing system with Heidegger's over-sized paws mixed into his business. Heidegger almost _never _approved of anything Tseng had proposed in the past; and its set him back often enough up until he became Head. He wouldn't let Tseng pick any decent recruits for the Turks either; instead referring men that would've been better off serving the Security sect. Tseng had deliberately failed these individuals, and it only angered his superior more often than not.

_Its no wonder we're still so few._

Rufus thankfully understand this upon further contemplation; even nodding in shared sentiment. It seemed he remembered Heidegger's gross incompetence as he once again checked the date of Garm's processing; seeing it indeed coincided with Heidegger still being in charge of the Turks.

"Good to hear," he replied mildly. "I just hope this Garm can do the job as well as you or Reno. If nothing else, I can't help wondering why you haven't mentioned him at the last meeting when you've told us of _Cissnei's _investigation of Nibelheim."

Tseng forced himself to let out a breath; but it did nothing to curb the increasingly pressurized winding of his guts. "I wouldn't imagine mentioning another fresh trainee with no official I.D being sent to _Nibelheim _of all places would go over well with Scarlet or Heidegger," Tseng admitted. "After Reno was hospitalized, I had to jump though a couple of hoops just to get Elena fully processed as it is."

Rufus's shoulders bobbed at this, "No, I suppose it wouldn't."

_But you could at least stand to mention it to me_, was the unspoken words here. Tseng could practically hear them; serving only to frost his nerve endings as the president coyly weighed all that has been offered. His frigid stare moved once to the clip-board and then flickered back to the Turk as if to remind him of his position.

It seemed the silence had the intended effect; as Rufus eventually moved on. "Well," he began again. "In any case, I'd appreciate getting a picture of this man; I'd like to know the faces of every Turk or would-be Turk in the system nowadays, if you don't mind."

"Of course sir. Is there anything else?" He replied mildly, although hearing this request has certainly and _effectively _finished freezing his blood into a near stand-still in his veins. He hoped the color in his face hadn't leeched at all where Rufus could see it.

"Nothing beyond any updates on Sephiroth and his whereabouts. Or Hojo and AVALANCHE for that matter," Rufus casually waved off, his gaze moving back to the board on the table, thankfully enough.

Tseng dipped his head again, "Nothing concrete. Rumors crop up; but at least they all seem to happen on the Western continent."

"All of them?"

"As far as I've gathered," Tseng readily supplied, somewhat happy that the conversation has moved away from Zack. _For now._

"I suppose that's something," Rufus continued. "And AVALANCHE?"

"They've all left Runen City and are headed towards Cosmo Canyon, North-bound. Cait sent me the details this morning."

"Excellent. I know you don't need me to tell you this, but make sure the Cetra remains out of harm's way. If this whole thing with Sephiroth fails, at least we'll still have her."

This reminder was unfortunately what Tseng had expected, but didn't want to hear anyways. He nonetheless nodded and moved a hand to his chest, bending a bit at the waist as a butler would reply to his master.

"I'd expect nothing less," Tseng affirmed with a straight face. "Aerith's safety has always been and shall forever be our top priority."

"Good. On that note, you're dismissed," Rufus added at this. "I expect to see a photo likeness of this Garm delivered to me whenever he checks back in- Preferably by the end of the week. That, and a fully rendered dossier."

_Not good._

"Noted sir," he instead mechanically replied.

And without another word, Tseng turned on his heel and left the untouched clip-board where it remained on the table. As soon as the president's door clicked shut behind him however, he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding that _entire time _he'd been in there. He took a moment to gather his thoughts; and then stoically walked back to his own temporary office.

The questions began to rise; each one more terrible than the last as they swam into view: He couldn't help wondering if Rufus had indeed discovered Garm by accident, or if he'd somehow physically seen him during the boat-ride to the Costa Del Sol after all. There's no other way he could've known otherwise.

Worse yet, he already seemed to know Garm was assigned to Cissnei, despite Tseng's glaring and deliberate lack of detail on the girl's current partner. So chances were, he may have just somehow seen Garm; despite the fact Zack had cloak materia. It wasn't like Zack was some sort of clumsy oaf either; he'd been trained in the art of stealth before; even though its technically not needed nor employed in most of his operations.

However way he came to that conclusion eluded Tseng; and it frustrated and worried him. It very well meant there's breach in information _somewhere_; or someone was possibly funneling this portent to Rufus directly. Tseng certainly felt like this shouldn't be the case, but his gut told him otherwise.

Not to mention the fact that Rufus had indeed caught-out Tseng about Garm's deliberately concealed existence... This said, Tseng knew the president well enough to understand that the next time he tried omitting anything, he'd be _dead_ in the water. Sunk in almost every aspect of the word. Rufus wouldn't think twice to shut down the Turks should he believe they were threatening him. The only reason he refrained from doing so now was probably because Rufus didn't believe Tseng's current machinations a threat to the company, or to himself. If nothing else, he knew Tseng's ongoing operations were of a mutually beneficial means to an end Rufus took stock in as well.

Still, there would be no warning; no promise of a threat or suspension of Tseng's job after this little transgression. It meant that should Rufus truly feel inclined, he'd lynch the Turks with no sign he's doing it whatsoever. There wouldn't even be the courtesy of a conference call. For all he knew, its possible Rufus would use whatever remained of SOLDIER to dispatch the errant Turks. Or worse; feed them all to Scarlet in a way to win her favor back.

_He called me in there to keep me in check_, he suddenly realized. _He's letting me know there wouldn't be a second chance if he ever caught me in a lie. He let me walk out of that office pretty much because I technically __**didn't **__lie to him... _

Zack and Cissnei's jointed work and its fruits were another reason admittedly; Rufus having been happy the two managed to snag that sample of the monster from the ship. That, and whatever other little information on Sephiroth's birth Tseng filtered and let him see. He didn't need to see _all _of it yet; less he go after Aerith more prematurely.

Tseng found that he zoned out throughout this thought process; his feet having naturally guided him back to his room without his knowing. He went in, locked his door, and slumped heavily against his chair; resting a hand to his forehead. He ended up immediately retracting it though; finding it almost utterly _saturated _in sweat.

Gods. He was _sweating _his own damn tux off, of all things! Sweating like he just got out of a hot shower. Or more like he'd been stranded out in the Golden Saucer desert prison.

Tseng huffed and found a handkerchief in his tux; wiping his temples free of his clearly, perversely, visible distress. He stuffed it away afterwards, but then planted his head in his hands and sighed. Great Minerva, he was glad no one was here to see him like this.

_Now. What to do? I just lost my advantages, _Tseng belatedly realized. _Its truly a talent of Rufus's to effectively unseat you from your crowning position in just one short conversation. Its bad enough Garm's existence wasn't meant to be learned until a later date; if at all. Rufus wasn't supposed to go rummaging through the Turk Recruit forms and find him so __**quickly**__. _

_And Aerith... Minerva forbid Rufus learns Sephiroth isn't really an Ancient._

_**But what if he already knows?**_

Tseng heaved again and threw his head back until it hit his chair's rest, his stony gaze locked onto the ceiling.

_There's no way Rufus wouldn't have already come to the conclusion, the more I consider it. He knows Sephiroth has been around Shinra his whole life... That said, surely he's gleaned that Hojo wouldn't have already tried to get the way to the Promised Land out of him-?_

_But then again... Its very possible Hojo could've kept that secret to himself, and it part-way plays into why Rufus wants to find him so badly. Rufus probably thinks Hojo could've deliberately never told Sephiroth he was an Ancient on purpose so to not destabilize him or throw him into a rage- _

Not that that hadn't already happened or anything, but that's besides the point. With that said, Tseng couldn't help finding some solace in this information; as it meant the president probably still believed Sephiroth was a true Cetra.

_Still, if Hojo gets captured and he informs the president of Sephiroth's lack of relation... Aerith's life could very well become forfeit. And if a wild-card like Zack gets wind of this, he won't hesitate to act on his own terms; injuries be damned. He's still strong enough to pose a threat, should he feel like it- And **especially** if he decided on joining AVALANCHE instead._

_...Think. _

Tseng wheeled his chair around until he was facing his desk, resting his arms across its lacquered surface as he considered what information he may still have that Rufus couldn't possibly know.

_On a more short-term note, I wonder if he's ever seen Zack's likeness before? Zack was only a budding student when Rufus was sent away on that long-term mission several years ago. Zack wasn't even popular yet, and his over-all appearance has changed quite dramatically since then- Even when I last saw him in Midgar just __**weeks **__ago..._

It was true: seeing what appeared to be facial hair on Zack's formerly youthful face shaved _years _off of him. And then there's the addition of his new scars and hair-cut. Still, Rufus would no doubt recognize Zack's cross-shaped scar and mako-bright eyes if he's seen it at any point within the last seven years. But again, Rufus had been away during Zack's peak in his career, and its likely he's never cared to know about some random SOLDIER other than the important ones like Angeal and Genesis. Rufus had been too busy acting a Shinra mole in that time and was relatively cut off from the vast majority of the world.

But, even if Rufus didn't somehow blessedly know who Zack was, _Scarlet would certainly know. _And so would Heidegger. And Palmer. And Reeve too.

_Shit. None of them can see him,_ he suddenly realized. _Its not like I'm so worried about Reeve if I finish winning him over, but the rest? This isn't good. I need to think. I might have to cut Garm loose at this rate and-_

_Wait. No. Slow down, Tseng. There's still a way to do this. Pace your thoughts._

_...Yes. I just need to make a phone call. I got this._

Tseng breathed; slowly taking in each draw with a deliberate and calculated slowness as the answers bled forth. He even found the tiniest of smiles slyly build at the corners of his lips, his trademark composure setting back in. He was playing with fire here; and it writhed around him in a conflagration that threatened to burn out of control. However, its not like Tseng could put it out; he's tried doing that in the past and its only failed miserably. So, he settled for controlling it; deciding to lay out the tinder to best guide the flame where he wanted it to go.

_Time to call in on an old favor,_ he smirked as he lifted his phone.

* * *

~777~

_**-Two Days Later-**_

Zack yawned widely, but couldn't help his wince when his chest flared in a brief spasm of jabbing pain. It prickled and lanced angrily across his middle; and then settled like an agitated serpent that's been prodded at one too many times.

Cloud sure can hit- _hard_. The punishing weight of his every blow, his ice-slicked death glares that _glowed _in the shadows like a ravenous, night-time predator; and the fearless but clearly calculated way he handled a fight despite being relatively unarmed and out-matched- And the fact that his strength only grew each day? He only got better with every fight he's faced with; with every minute that ticked by. And in due time, Cloud would soon reach even Zack's peak strength in the time to come.

In some small way, Zack couldn't help being proud of the little guy. He knew that once the J-Cell sickness was treated, Cloud would retain that Herculean strength; and he'd only refine it in the years to come. You really wouldn't know something was _wrong _with him unless you knew what to look for. That said, Zack knew he wasn't going to (literally and figuratively) knock heads with him again anytime soon. Cloud's brutalized headbutts had given him a persistent migraine that refused to leave for an _entire day_ as it is.

And the punches Tifa landed? Like holy Minerva's great tits can that woman fight. Zack had found it nearly impossible to breathe for some hours afterwards. And its a hard lesson in the school of Knocks that showed him that Tifa's more well-honed instincts in conjunction with her unique (and not fully understood) fighting style had made her deadlier in hand-to-hand combat than most SOLDIER. Not first class of course, but she's able to keep up with the best of them.

Seriously. Zack couldn't help applauding Tifa's abilities. With she and Cloud playing off of the other, its no wonder he almost had his ass handed to him on a gilded platter. Bruises from both combatants were _still _a bloomed field of blues, purples and yellows across his chest- even two days later. The damage was certainly enough to confound and worry Cissnei as it was.

And speaking of Cissnei...

Yeah. You can bet the girl had been _absolutely livid _when she saw Zack skulk in with that briefcase. When Zack walked back into that room that same night, he didn't expect to find her awake and waiting for him like a stern mother greeting her guilty son as he came home from a late night regret.

A first, she wasn't that agitated. She would've simply blown it off seeing Vincent was with Zack. But as soon as she caught sight of Zack's newest injuries, it ultimately set her off like a flurry of firecrackers. Zack had never seen her get so _emotional _before, and its the weirdest thing ever. Like, she was clearly saddened by his condition initially; but it evolved into a vicious, pent-up frustration that she'd clearly bottled for quite some time. This said, Zack couldn't help wondering if _he _was the sole reason for this kind of distress; and how often did she bury her emotions where it wasn't healthy.

And like the cherry on top, Cissnei even punched him _herself- _Right in the balls might he add. At least she had the decency to avoid his pre-existing injuries.

Zack had crumpled _spectacularly_; reduced to a moping puddle of tired muscles and cross-eyed squeaking in the middle of his and Vincent's shared room. In undignified display, he rolled like a potato until he kissed the wall of the room. That's where he remained while Cissnei sized up the pay-load. Vincent had remained his stoic self and simply crept to the darkest corner, his arms folded and his gaze a million miles away.

Although, he did eventually elaborate that the battle wasn't Zack's fault entirely. His shots missed or couldn't quite connect thanks to Cloud's SOLDIER-level reflexes; and Zack had to recover momentum where there wasn't any. Cissnei smiled cryptically at him at this, but she remained irritated with Zack's decision to stay in a fight he should've abandoned until another opportunity arose. She'd later lectured him about knowing when to give up a fight or simply avoid it out-right.

Not that Zack has _ever _backed down from a fight. But that was besides the point.

On a more pleasant note, she was absolutely _astonished _to find that Zack had managed an impromptu and albeit crude spinal tap (of some kind) while in the middle of that battle. He had more than just Cloud's semi-normal blood in that bag. When Cissnei asked how he managed this, Zack had informed her (after recovering from that ball-buster) that Vincent recommended the idea to him, having both showed and told Zack where to hit _precisely_. It would suck for Cloud, whose likely to be some pain right now, but he'd be able to shake it off far more easily than Zack could shake off his own infirmities.

On a side note, Zack's wounds were healing far too _slowly_. Granted, its only been two days, but Zack used to heal off worse in that amount of time in the past. He internalized it, but he was low-key worried about it seeing as Tseng told him not so long ago that the Jenova cells in his body were causing such a symptom. In fact, Zack had only healed off so much damage initially thanks to Tseng's Full Cure materia before he first set out on this mission. Ever since his departure from Banora, Zack hadn't had a good time dealing with sustained injuries. And truly, this was a disconcerting sign.

Maybe, just _maybe_, those experiments in the lab were finally catching up to him in earnest. And just when he thought he'd heal off the worst of it. Great.

In the meantime, Zack had spent the better part of the last two days returning to Midgar; hand-delivering the blood as promised. He needed to get checked out by Hendel anyways, and to rest up before doing any other crazy jobs Tseng decided on assigning them. For once, he didn't feel inclined to go running after AVALANCHE after seeing Cloud's brute strength up close. While dubious, Cloud seemed well enough to keep an eye out on Aerith and himself while Zack recuperated.

The trio had informed Tseng ahead of time so he could lower the security in the Turks' tower; but it didn't mean that Vincent would uncloak until they saw Tseng personally (he was borrowing the materia from Cissnei). If the security cameras were on at all, they'd only see Cissnei and the hooded Garm dismount the helicopter, walk into the building and enter the elevator. They pressed the button for Tseng's room; Cissnei swiping her key-card for authorization for the Director's office.

Once the doors opened though, Zack couldn't help wondering who the bleeding hell was talking to the Turk in question. Tseng wasn't quite alone as it turned out: As he had two people with him; one of which being the caffeine obsessed nut-job Hendel.

But the other, slightly taller figure eluded Zack. This somewhat muscular dude wore a gray, faded casual hoodie with a draw-string; his hood fully drawn up around his head. He was wearing jogging pants too, and he certainly looked out of place in Tseng's pristine office. If nothing else, he looked like he just finished a decent sprint around the neighborhood.

All three had turned as the elevator sighed open, Tseng's slate-gaze warmer than usual. "Ah, that was fast," he greeted. "I didn't think you'd get the mission done in less than four days after I've assigned it. Not bad."

Zack strode over, sensing the cloaked Vincent behind him. Cissnei pursed her lip beside the men, her button-nose wrinkling. "And who might we owe this pleasure?" she uncertainly began, her mocha eyes arrested onto the other.

"A good friend and ally," the elder Turk assured. "Its not like you have anything to fear of this man."

"Oh, _je__ez_. Thanks Tseng, what a nice way to introduce me!" boisterously imputed the stranger. His voice almost immediately struck Zack as familiar, but he just couldn't figure out why. It certainly baffled him though, prompting Zack to internally recoil from the strange sensation.

"You'll get over it," The Turk Head jested with the barest humor. He focused his gaze onto the space somewhere behind the pair next. "And you can uncloak now, Vincent," Tseng expertly anticipated. "This is a room filled only with close familiars."

Vincent scoffed as the materia's effect wore off, his arms folding across his willowy chest. His ghost-fire gaze burned into the eyes of the hooded man, his proud profile sinking into his high-collar. "So I hope," was his only reply to that.

The stranger in the mean-time jumped back; throwing his arms out to the side in clear shock of Vincent's sudden appearance. Clearly; he thought the man imposing and was presumably as weirded out by his proximity as Zack had initially. After shrugging off his wariness though (albeit not all the way), he turned towards Zack next; his eyes glittering in the confines of his shaded features-

_-Glittering with mako energy, _the ex-SOLDIER immediately realized. The observation reflexively put him on guard; his fists balling at his sides.

Tseng smiled again, and its a feature that struck Zack as rather smug and disconcerting in some ways. He was so used to Tseng's seemingly perpetual air of bad news and constant stream of dead-pan frowns that this particular shift in mannerisms felt _inappropriate _somehow.

"You can both remove the hoods," he casually ordered, his words only serving to make Zack even more suspicious.

"Sir?" Cissnei spoke for him, her brows lifting once.

Tseng waved at Zack himself, his expression flipping to his more reserved and familiar mask. "Its fine. The disguises come off completely here. It involves what I called him in for actually."

"...That important?" Zack carefully rasped through the respirator, his chest still heavy with weighted pain. Talking was fairly difficult, but manageable today at least.

At Tseng's now expected and briefly grim nod, Zack somehow felt this conversation wouldn't be so jovial as he first anticipated. But, seeing as the boss man was so relaxed about their current company, he couldn't help wondering if this individual was involved in the Septimus operations somehow. This in mind, Zack slowly and reluctantly began to slip off his hood; letting the stranger remove his article first. Once the goggles and mask were down though, Zack couldn't help his sharp intake of breath as he took in the man's mild-mannered features.

"_Kunsel-?!_"

"Z- _ZACK?_"

Kunsel's hazel-flecked, woody, green eyes suddenly darted all over Zack's entire form; lingering for the slightest of seconds over his newer scar above his left eye-brow. His messy, brown hair was still an apparent wreck from likely favoring his caps or helmets or _whatever _head-wear he usually wore. His jaw wasn't pronounced like Zack's either, but came fairly close. However, he had a more noticeably scrawnier appearance to him; as if stress had long since stripped Kunsel of his own boyish facade. In a weird way, his somewhat shabby appearance gave him the bearings of a much older man than his suggested age.

A close parody to Zack, in hind-sight.

"Holy fucking- ZACK MY MAN!" Kunsel was suddenly bum-rushing the other in a vibrant show of his enthusiasm; wrapping his corded arms around Zack's neck and knocking his respirator further askew. He tackled the slightly older man and dragged him close to the ground; jumping and romping as excitedly as a happy pup would.

And Zack couldn't help it; he completely forgot his own reclusive demeanor as Garm, his injuries, and his pain as he felt this earth-shattering grin split his face in two. He _roared _in shared excitement; leaping to the fray and throwing one of his own arms around Kunsel's shoulders while the other dashed to his scruffy scalp. He playfully noogied the daylights out of Kunsel; snorting and gasping and laughing and gasping again; in that order. He didn't care that he couldn't properly draw in breath; all he cared about was that he had yet another friend left in the world that seemed to have been spared Shinra's cruel heel.

And not only was he alive, but even Tseng had let him in their little secret circle _willingly_. For whatever reason though baffled and confused him, but that didn't ruin his fun for that one precious moment. At the very least, Kunsel was just as excited to see Zack as _he _was! That said, the two tussled and dragged the other to the ground; laughing like clowns all the way.

Cissnei giggled nearby, all the while Vincent harrumphed softly. Hendel flinched as the boys roughed each other up, but his expression was a weird mixture of terse and relaxed. Tseng said nothing of course, but his politely stern mask slipped once or twice before settling.

"Great Bahamut's blue _balls _I missed you dude!" Kunsel grunted as Zack lessened the assault.

Zack threw back his head and chortled like an Cactuar Island hyena, his arm staying locked around Kunsel's neck. "Same, man! I can't believe Shinra didn't lynch you," he honestly admitted, suddenly feeling a little more weighted down by the reality around him.

"Oh they damn well _tried_, man. They frickin' tried," Kunsel shrugged. "But you know, Tseng here did me a solid and cut me loose when things got too hairy. I couldn't believe he did, but I couldn't be more glad he did though."

Zack's mako-charged gaze slipped to the Turk, knowing that he might've done it for an ulterior reason other than as a favor to Zack himself; perhaps. Although, he still couldn't help feeling grateful for the intervention anyways. He passed Tseng a more reserved grin, and then turned back to Kunsel, "Oh yeah? You're gonna hafta tell me about it when we get a minute. That's gotta be a good story."

"Can't be as good as this," Kunsel flicked a finger to Zack's forehead. "I betcha yours is better than mine. At the very least, I think I finally have a chance at the ladies now."

Zack couldn't help his answering laugh, although the sharp, sudden motion forced a cough out of him.

"Frickin' tits and gravy tips dude. You okay?" Kunsel asked with very real concern.

"That's what I like to know," Hendel finally spoke up nearby, his smile tighter than a fish's bung hole is Zack's best comparison.

_Shit. I bet Cissnei sent them the full disclosure._

Zack waved them all off, one of his arms lingering around his mouth, "'M'fine. I just need a sec."

"I hope you had just as much fun rough-housing Cloud," Tseng shrugged, as if to confirm Zack's suspicions.

_Fuck._

Zack groaned and slumped his head, a frown stitched into place as he faced them. "For the record," he jabbed a sharp finger at every individual present, and then he jerked a thumb back at himself. "I had a _great _plan, but freakin' Cloud just bull-dozed a gaping hole through it like its nobody's business. He was dodging _Vince _here for crying out loud!"

"That, and the injuries he sustained were the only reason why I didn't just drop-kick him again," Cissnei rolled her eyes while Zack blew a rasberry at her. "-At least he managed the operation in a semi-intelligent way. At first."

Vincent ducked his head, shutting his eyes as if in contemplation of his actions, "I'd have to apologize for the turn of events in that fight. I shot the targets first, and did what I could to make sure any of the next darts hit. However, it didn't work out after the initial strike. It isn't Zack's fault. If nothing else, Zack had to compensate for my error."

Tseng sighed, but settled, "Then I suppose we've _all _made a miscalculation: Cloud isn't an easy foe to fool in hind-sight. Truth be told, he managed to down my men with relative ease in the past."

"He just keeps getting better too," Zack folded his arms. "He learns on the fly; his responses akin to a legit first class SOLDIER. Its kinda weird seeing and feeling it for myself."

Hendel's gaze hardened once, he passing Tseng a wary glance upon learning this. He then asked, "Wasn't Cloud only infantry in the past?"

Zack nodded, "Infantry or not, Cloud kicked even _Sephiroth's _ass before Hojo got to him. I couldn't help wondering if Cloud always had this kinda potential in him. The experiments seemed to flesh it out in some way."

Cissnei hummed, but then held up the briefcase. "Well, at least it worked out," she shrugged.

"Show me," Hendel motioned.

She passed the case to him, her expression more like her typical one. "Believe it or not, Zack did manage to get a sample of Cloud's _spinal fluid_; much to my surprise."

"Wait, really? Huh." the doc almost popped it open, but he didn't want to disturb the refrigerated contents until it was necessary. "No way. Did you really?"

"I did!" Zack planted his hands on his hips, posing dramatically.

Vincent let out a chuckle behind him, prompting Zack to toss him a confused glance.

"Well, than you just saved me a week's worth of researching," Hendel admitted. "Given the sample isn't tainted in some way. A lot of the time, most of the data gleaned from Hojo's projects sit in their spinal fluid, or the base of their heads. Or the crown."

"Eh, 'data'?" Zack shook his head while Kunsel eyed him and the doc as they exchanged words; likely trying to understand the situation. The way Hendel used the word just now made it sound a lot like its something more... _invasive_. Like its a physical entity of some kind.

And much to their jointed horror, that assumption was indeed correct.

"He had these little, _little_ disposable chips that scan chemical fluctuations in the body," Hendel informed him, holding up a thumb and fore-finger and giving the two digits roughly half-an-inch worth's of space between them. "It translates this information into numbers, all the while surveying the Jenova Cell's effects too. He implants them in the subject's skulls; but only in the ones he's most interested in. Them, and the higher-ranked SOLDIER classified as first or have the best average performance in the physical stress tests. You at least don't have one- eh, _anymore_."

"WHA- Whaddya mean 'anymore'?!" Zack babbled, feeling his throat constrict several times. He was nearly wheezing now, "How come I'm only learning about this _now_?"

"It wasn't relevant at the time. You had enough on your plate," Hendel replied, jerking a bit when Zack had raised his voice. "You had one in your scalp at some point, but it was removed probably during the apex of Hojo's experiments. After Reno, Rude, and Cissnei found you, I operated on you to extract not only the bullets, but whatever else Hojo had in you. However, I never found anything like that in your head."

By now, Kunsel's earlier merriment had long since died, his skin blanching several shades. Cissnei was doing something similar not too far away, mouthing something to herself. She moved a hand to her chin, and then softly muttered, "That explains it..."

"Explains _what_?" Zack immediately singled her out, sensing something amiss with that contemplative look on her face.

Cissnei jerked; looking quite contrite upon seeing his mutinous expression, "I uh... Remember when we were staying at Fallen Feather Springs a couple of weeks back? The time you told me to cut your hair?"

"Uh-huh?" The ex-SOLDIER folded his arms.

Cissnei sighed here, "While I was trimming, I _did _find a little spot on your head where there appeared to be a thin, fairly old white scar where hair didn't want to grow back. It was pretty small..."

At this, Zack flinched as if struck; but then he immediately straightened himself out as another invasive idea popped into his mind. "And Cloud?" Zack's eyes flashed. "You think he had one of these things in 'em too?"

"I've no doubt, but it should no longer be likely. Hojo deemed him a failure like you, sometime just before your escape. He would've removed it immediately after-which," the doc supplied.

"Most of this information was in the packets you took from Nibelheim," Tseng added on. "Although its fair to say it may not be all of it."

Vincent let out a contemptuous huff at that, "He would've erased the rest, then."

"That, or took the remaining files and copies for more relevant and newer subjects else-where," Tseng elaborated.

"Hmf."

Zack's jaw hung agape, but he promptly snapped it shut and paced away from his friends. "Fucking Hell _man_," he breathed. His next words were rhetorical, but bereaved, "Why is Hojo even like this? Like, how can any one person be so... so-"

When he trailed off, his arms flopped to his sides and stayed there. He wondered over to the chair naturally resting in front of Tseng's desk, plopped right down in it, hands weaving into the hair on his temples. He heard steps behind him, and then felt someone's hand drop heavily to his shoulder. The gray sleeve on it suggested the owner to be Kunsel, who spared no words at that moment. Zack was grateful for it, honestly.

Tseng decided to move the conversation on then, "Hendel, can you get right on that? You can give Zack a physical after I'm done here in a few minutes. When you get the time, we can finish discussing the dossier's details later."

Said string-bean turned to him, flapped his lips, and then nodded. He spared them not another word as he bustled by; his brown eyes dead-locked onto the next step forward.

"Alright then," The Turk Director began again as soon as the elevator door slid shut. He tented his hands in front of him, "Now we move onto the _real _reason why Kunsel's here: For the record, I apologize for simply jumping into the nitty-gritty so quickly, but you'll have plenty of time to absorb all of this later. As for the portent found in Hojo's file-" He sighed drearily at this. "I assure you, Zack, I'll let you know what I think Hojo's been doing later on. I believe I promised you a full disclosure?"

"You did."

Kunsel lifted his head and was about to say something, but seemed to think better of it and fell silent. Zack in the meantime forced himself to huff and locked eyes with the Turk Head.

"Alright then," The Turk nodded congenially. "As it is, I have both bad news and good news. I'll start with the former," he began. "As much as it pains me to say this, I'm afraid Rufus has discovered Garm's existence, and wants a fully compiled profile delivered to him. The good news is, I have a way to bypass the risks and potential for exposure Zack is currently in-"

The initial tidbit had certainly alarmed Zack, and it forcibly plummeted his mood _still further_. But as he listened to the rest of the news and took the second to turn it over, it immediately became clear to him what Tseng had in mind _exactly_.

"You want Kunsel to act as my dummy for this dossier's stats and picture?"

Tseng, Cissnei, and even Vincent jerked their heads at him, the girl amongst them blinking a few times for good measure. Tseng merely nodded and affirmed, "Well, yes. That's pretty much the gist of it. Didn't expect you'd put it together so swiftly."

Kunsel, like the good boy he was, raised a hand to let them know he had some thoughts to share. Tseng flicked a brow and nodded at him, encouraging him to speak.

"Yes?"

"Okay, uh, I'm sorry but... I'm still kinda confused here. All I know is you called me in so I can return a favor to you, and its to help Zack here; which I have no problems with whatsoever. But now I'm sitting here wondering what the heck is going on," he began.

He frowned here, gesturing once and sidling over to the desk. He then started ruminating aloud, as if to piece together his own rampant thoughts, "Zack's working _with _you, right? And you want to fabricate a cover to fool the president with... But the last time I checked, Zack was considered K.I.A five years ago and made an enemy of Shinra; and he's apparently had a visit with Hojo on top of all _that_. But now he's here and he's getting as a phony alias as a Turk even though he should be lying low, right? Like as in _not involved with Shinra at all _I'd figure would be most preferable way to deal with this situation after hearing all this. Am I in the wrong here?"

"Its a long story, man," Zack breathed, his fingers tracing through his hair; smoothing back his bangs for that second. "I'll give you the short version after this, and the reasoning for it all."

"Dude, if its all for a girl, I wouldn't be surprised," Kunsel grunted while rolling his eyes. "But damn if I don't ring your stupid neck for it. Like throwing yourself out there just for a single pretty face is stupidly detrimental to not just you, but your family too."

"I know."

"Oh yeah? Do ya now?" Kunsel folded his arms here. "Seriously man. You're seriously not telling me its all for just one chick, right? That its for this Cloud too-?"

Zack winked, but the motion looked strained, "Trust me on this. I'll tell ya later."

"Freaking hell. 'Kay then. I'll be quiet now," Kunsel sheepishly replied, but he also sounded mighty winded from just trying to wrap his head around it all.

"To be clear, at least you already have a basic grasp of what's going on," Tseng shrugged at them. "And yes Kunsel, you're going to offer your face for Zack's cover as Garm, as well as pose as him should Rufus show any interest in wishing to physically meet him."

Zack raised his hand this time.

Tseng blinked and then droned a very unenthused "Yes?"

"Alright, so why would the president be so interested in the individual Turks nowadays? Like, is he helping with the recruiting process or something? I find his influence on this whole thing kinda weird; especially since I figured he's more or less focused on hunting down Sephiroth... Isn't this Heidegger's job anyways?"

Kunsel looked like he wanted to elaborate on the mention of Sephiroth's name, but thankfully kept his mouth zipped shut. Zack felt a little bad that his friend was getting left behind like this, but knew Kunsel would catch up before long.

"Wait, you never got the notification yet?" Tseng wondered aloud, his gaze switching to Cissnei here.

"What one?" She inquired.

Tseng honestly looked confused himself now, but then he rose from his seat and folded his hands primly behind his back. He meandered around it, his gaze on the shortest of them- Cissnei to be more precise. "Heidegger is no longer our superior," he told them all. His usually stiff lips curled upwards here, "From just before I last saw you in Gongaga, the Turks were given an entire _division_. I'm officially Head of the Administrative and General Affairs Apartment. No one except Rufus has any personal say over what I can or can't do."

At this bombshell, everyone else pretty much reacted the same way; except for Cissnei. She was immediately rushing Tseng and stopping just shy of him, her emotions a bubbling mixture of cautious excitement and swirling apprehension.

"No way," she almost croaked. "You're serious?"

When Tseng graced the disbelieving query with a smile, Cissnei _squealed _like a high-school girl and spun on the balls of her feet. Her coppery mane rippled around and whipped her face, and then she's opening her arms wide like she was going to follow up with the ludicrous idea of giving Tseng a _hug _of all things. It never happened, but her cinnamon gaze was profoundly embracing enough on its own.

"Tseng! This is... This is _great! _I mean, its also nerve-wracking, but GREAT," she blurted out breathlessly. "This can give us the lee-way we need to maneuver with!"

"Its already paying off," Tseng smiled more genuinely here, breaking character for just one astonishing second to rest a steady hand on Cissnei's more slight shoulder. It looked very much like a proud older brother giving his little sister a happy pep talk. His smile however faded a few degrees after a minute. "-But the thing is, we both know it also draws more attention to what I'm doing, and you can bet Scarlet and the rest will pose a problem if they wanted to. Rufus still has more than just a little 'lee-way' in our operations."

He sighed here, and then, "After the incident some months ago, I'm afraid Scarlet will simply try to track our movements more carefully than usual. And this also gives Rufus a firmly rooted reason to be part of our affairs. We're going to have to proceed with even more caution than ever before."

Cissnei's expression indeed emulated Tseng's; her earlier joy almost effectively killed in just a few measly words. Zack almost groaned at the sight of it, but knew this moment of reverie was something more or less between them.

"I wonder though," Tseng continued. "Are you sure you didn't get the forwarded message sent to all personnel?"

"Not on my phone, no," Cissnei's mahogany brows fell heavily against her eyes, her gaze stern. She went and pulled out her phone as if to check, flipped through it, and then sighed. "Huh. Its been automatically archived. Now why is that-?"

"Whoops."

Cissnei's gaze _immediately _zeroed onto Zack, her gaze almost draconic. "What do you mean, 'whoops'?"

Zack scratched his head, and then slapped his hands together in a physical representation of his apologies. "I must've accidentally tapped or swiped the message when ya first got it. I didn't want to go reading through your junk. I've been so focused on waiting on Cait's messages about Cloud that I must've archived it by mistake. Sorry."

Cissnei sighed and let her earlier, more murderous expression go. Although, she still looked like she was still stewing over her frustration with Zack's latest blunders.

Tseng however only chuckled, patting Cissnei on the shoulder and releasing her, "You must've had your hands full while you've been out."

"You have _no _idea," she wryly replied.

Tseng dipped his head and returned to his chair, hands folded over the other. "Now then, back to the main subject," he directed as he seated himself. "As you all know, Kunsel will have to stand-in for Zack and the remaining specs not yet on file. Should Rufus wish to meet him, and he _will _eventually ask about it, Kunsel will need to know how to reply. After you're dismissed from here, Zack will have to see Hendel, and Cissnei goes on standby. I will help Kunsel and Hendel prepare the dossier."

His granite gaze slid to Vincent once, "And frankly, I wouldn't mind having a decent sit-down with Mr. Valentine later on. I know its likely a personal matter, but I'd like to inquire about the parts of your history that wasn't on paper. Also, I'd like to know your abilities so we can utilize them for later operations. I won't force the information out of you, of course. Its entirely up to you."

Vincent's gaze was at its most enigmatic peak here; entirely vacant of any and all interest in indulging the active Turk. However, he didn't decline the reasoning; merely holding his stance and giving just the briefest of nods.

Tseng nodded back, keeping his gaze locked onto Vincent's for a decent amount of time just to let him know in his own way that he appreciated it. He returned his attention to the others then, "That said, I believe that concludes everything I have to say to all of you as a group. I'll speak to every individual in turn; but not all in one day. Take a moment to relax, and choose any rooms in the lower level to sleep in. You all will have to stay here until my business with all of you is conducted. Am I clear on that?"

When Tseng was given a round of nods, he reciprocated the gesture and tented his hands again, "Alright then. I'll send you all a text for when I'm ready to speak to you. Don't worry about payment while staying here either; I only ask you keep your room picked up and you _stay out of sight_. I'll make sure you all have a cloak materia in hand. And, I suppose I don't need to say this, but I'm going to say it anyway:

"Whatever you do, _don't_, and I mean _DON'T _breathe a word of what's going on here to anyone. If you feel you must keep secrets just between me and you, that's perfectly acceptable. For that matter, whatever other business you have is yours to conduct; but anything and everything pertaining to Zack and the Septimus project remains _here_." Tseng breathed, and reclined in his chair, "Now with all of that said and done, is there any other questions?"

When none arose, Tseng was seen sighing in a way that betrayed his exhaustion; and this Zack immediately recognized. Considering how organized Tseng was, and how meticulously detail-oriented he is, Zack knew the man was too exhausted to put up with _any _of them for today. To be honest, he felt the same; and he knew Cissnei wasn't that far off either after their long drive back to Midgar.

He glanced at Vincent, anticipating that the ex-Turk would much rather move on to find Hojo rather than stay here for a few days; but Vincent betrayed no such restless ambition. Instead, the whole group found themselves being dismissed by Tseng; with Vincent complacently following Zack and the others into the elevator without another word.

"By the way," Tseng called out to them, stopping them all in the process. His gaze rested solely on Zack however, letting the latter know his words were directed at him alone. "You and Kunsel are free to catch up; and you don't have to hold anything back if you don't want to. As I've said, Kunsel is going to be helping you maintain Garm's identity, and therefore is helping the Septimus operation along. However-"

His eyes slid to Kunsel next, "That doesn't make you an official part of the operation yet, unless you _want _to be. For the moment, the only thing you can do to help is compile Garm's identity; but then your part in this will be technically finished. If you want to do more, I'd have to let Septimus know. Alright?"

"Gotcha," Kunsel passed the Turk a cheerful thumbs-up, a glistening smile following the jovial gesture.

"Alright then. I'll see you all soon," Tseng concluded.

Zack didn't waste anytime getting to the elevator after that; crowding into it with Cissnei, Vince, and Kunsel at once. Once the doors closed though, he felt Kunsel wrap an arm around his neck again; his blithe demeanor damn near contagious.

"You don't even know how happy I am to see ya, bud," Kunsel winked.

Zack smirked back, shoving his arm off and nearly stepping into Cissnei in the process. "Yeah. I missed you like I missed having a hernia," He cackled.

"Great Minerva's bosom its good to see your stupid ass," Kunsel sighed. "Man there's so _much _we need to catch up on."

The elevator slid open on the residence level, and the group slipped out. Cissnei stopped in front of Zack, her prim demeanor present, "I'm going to relax before talking to Tseng. Make sure you get your things from the bird though; I'll need to lock it up before long."

"Noted," Zack nodded. "Thanks for the head's up."

Cissnei smiled her semi-cryptic smile, but the gesture was a warm one. "If you need anything," she added as she started to head back to the elevator. "Lemme know whenever."

The ex-SOLDIER passed her another one of his toothy grins, thanking her as she went to likely retrieve her own belongings from the helicopter. Once she was gone, Zack turned to Vincent, "Yunno, you can probably go explore Midgar, if ya want. I don't think you're in a position that's restrictive enough to keep you here. Its not like anybody from thirty years ago is gonna recognize you. Probably."

Vincent harrumphed, "I just may do that." He turned his gaze elsewhere, his mind likely miles away. "Its certainly been a long time," he added in a slightly softer undertone.

Zack reached out a fist and beat it against the man's thinner chest once in a show of encouragement, and then flicked his head at Kunsel. "I'm gonna get my crap from the bird before we sit down." He scratched his head next, "This talk will take us a while- even if I did summarize it."

"I figured," he shrugged back.

"Cool. I'm gonna take the room all the way down, on the right. You can meet me there in a few," Zack informed him.

Kunsel nodded back at him, but then he frowned, "Don't you have to meet up with this Hendel dude first? Tseng made it sound like you actually _needed _to get a check-up."

Zack huffed audibly; but the motion stabbed something fierce within him. As if to confirm Kunsel's suspicions, Zack ended up letting out a ragged cough that tore through his chest; bringing back the pain he'd long since tamped down. Kunsel's stare couldn't have been accusatory upon seeing this.

"Go get checked out first," he sternly told him. "I can get your junk from the chopper."

Zack was about to open his mouth, but Vincent beat him to it, "...Perhaps that's best. I can imagine this Hendel going on a witch-hunt to find you, should you not report to him within the hour."

"_Uuuuuughhhh. _Fine!" Zack threw up his arms, looking quite indignant. "Jeez guys. I didn't sign on for a bunch of whiny _baby-sitters _when I told Tseng I'd join! Cissnei's bad enough on her own."

Kunsel laughed boisterously at him; all the while Vincent merely scoffed. That said, the pair let Zack head to the elevator so he could get to Hendel first; not that Zack wanted to bother with it. If nothing else, he just wanted to curl up in his bed and shut out the world for a while.

Ah well. At least he'd have more than enough time to himself for the next few days. Which was, for once, completely and utterly fine with him.

Just as Zack stepped into the elevator, his mind raced back to his aforementioned woes. His concern arrested upon the one revelation that's been bugging him ever since he last saw Cloud: He couldn't help recalling his story about Modeoheim; having been listening in to the blond's rendition of their shared mission. Zack's expression sunk like a rock as entertained the one thing that he's finally managed to ascertain throughout his return trip back to Midgar-

Cloud was, in fact, an amnesiac. This he now knew for _certain_, and that just didn't sit right with him. Moreover, it seemed like he's deliberately glossing over Zack's existence in that retelling; leaving the ex-SOLDIER wondering if the change in plot was merely because Cloud couldn't remember anything of Zack at _all_. It wasn't like Cloud to lie about anything; he never was any good at it. Zack had been pretty good at catching the times Cloud tried doing it.

_Well, then I guess its a good thing I'm seeing Hendel_, he wondered to himself. _I think he'll be very interested to hear what I have to say about __**my **__version of Cloud's 'physical'._

_...Just you wait, little buddy. You and Aerith both. The next time I see you, hopefully I'll have a way to help you out of this. _

_One way, or another._

* * *

~777~

She just couldn't hear anything out here; nothing good nor pleasant sounding anyway.

No matter how hard she _listened_, all she could hear was the wailing of _its _cry on occasion; alongside the silence of stones across the knoll. Darkness crept along the grasses on its very belly; shadows seeping through the verdant blades as the waning moon vanished behind the darkest bank of clouds. The world withheld its breath; the bated quietude a mischievous portent of what's promised to come within the following morn- whatever _that _was.

The ever-so slight murmur of supplication drifted from her lips as would an ancient but routine incantation; with Aerith pondering long and hard about whether _any _of her prayers were ever heard by the planet. Pretty much every night, she whispered her fathomless anxieties into the world both above and below; her mind a straining net that stretched its vast tendrils across miles of land just to catch the slightest sign of the planet's reply. Nothing ever received her; no noise split the night or silence. Not a single sigh _anywhere_.

Not until it began again to bellow its cacophonous chorus of screams anew; and she just _had _to shut it out and pretend it didn't bother her when she tried to sleep soon after. She weeped in unheard lament; unable to do a thing for the planet except open her ears and heart to its torturous cries on occasion. But she _had _to listen; and she had to _keep _listening until she heard the answer she's now so long sought after:

She needed to find him.

She just had to find him.

She absolutely _must _find him.

Aerith had been doing her best to cope with his absence throughout the last five years; and figured she'd done a pretty job of it once she sent her last letter. However, ever since Tseng's latest message and the restless, trumpeting _murmuring _racing around in restless tandem within her breast, she just couldn't help herself. Somehow, she just _knew _Zack was out there; and he needed help of some kind. What, where, and how were the questions that's haunted her ever since Gongaga though.

For right now, Aerith was sitting in front of the campfire with Tifa and Nanaki on either side; the group having stopped for the night in the middle of the vast and haunted Southern Nibel wilderness. There hadn't been any towns since Cosmo; and there wouldn't be any until Rocket Town far, far North. But that involved climbing over the Nibelheim mountain range too; should Sephiroth have truly headed that way.

Everyone else was pretty much asleep for right now, except for herself and Cait Sith. The robotic feline usually kept a watchful eye on them at night whenever they stopped to set camp outdoors. Nanaki sometimes did the same; swapping out vigil with Cloud or Barret or Cait in turn every other night.

Aerith turned within her sleeping bag, the humidity irritating but fairly bearable. Her emerald gaze lingered over Tifa's countenance sometimes; but not because she was being creepy or anything. She merely needed a staring post, and Tifa just happened to be a reassuring sight sometimes. That said, Aerith found her wits about her and tried to go back to sleep; her mind still no less lingering over their past conversations:

Ever since Runen, she just couldn't help wondering about this Glaive fellow. Inside, her gut continued to assure her that he was, in fact, a _good _person. And it almost seemed to concrete it when Tifa told her about she and Cloud's battle with him. Now that statement sounded funny within itself; but as Aerith understood it, Glaive had wanted to avoid going toe-to-toe with his quarry.

He'd brought tranquilizing darts, held back his apparently suspiciously over-whelming strength, didn't use all of his materia, and retreated when he got what he wanted. He didn't go after Tifa when she was on her belly muttering drunkenly; he didn't try to sincerely hurt Cloud until he felt the need to defend himself. And funnily enough, he didn't try to ambush them until after they've had the majority of their date. He could've easily been presumed to be waiting for the right time to strike and found his chance when Cloud offered up the booze, but Aerith wasn't entirely sure if that's the case.

This man was strong enough to fend off Cloud, Tifa, and their _**summon **_while being _injured and holding back for crying out loud_. He was clearly _**stupid **_strong. And to be fairly honest, Aerith wouldn't have minded watching him fight just to see if she can get a better feel for this man's aura.

Aerith had heard the battle's details from both Tifa and Cloud in turn; and couldn't help coming to these conclusions the more she considered it. Still, it only thickened the enigmatic air around this dual-handed swordsman, who couldn't _possibly_ be a Turk anymore. Not with traits like these.

_Super strength._

_Immense spiritual control. _

_Some skill in melee and hand-to-hand combat._

_Forced reticent behavior._

_**Mako eyes.**_

_And Tseng's sudden personal interest in Cloud..._

_Why? What in the planet's name is going on? Is this man really SOLDIER, or not?_

Aerith frowned, unable to find any semblance of sleep after all. Everything about this Glaive was striking her as blazingly suspicious, and now her gut was tying itself up in way that told her she was deliberately trying to deny her growing misgivings. She just couldn't ruminate on that alone anymore. So, she sighed for the millionth time that night and then arrested her jeweled orbs onto the other woman beside her.

"Tifa?" she whispered. "Tifa? You awake?"

Said other merely mumbled, but she didn't stir. Aerith couldn't help her own beleaguered huff at this, and went to reach out to her. With a hand resting firm on Tifa's exposed shoulder, Aerith shook, but gently.

"Tifa?" she raised her voice a bit more this time; still very much aware of the canine creature resting just a couple feet away. She ended up hissing "_Tifa!_" in the smallest way ever, but its still audible enough to make Barret snort across from them.

Finally, Tifa was seen scrunching her brows and nose; her raven locks draping a vast, roped curtain all around her face. She groaned once, and then cracked an eye open.

"_Huh-_?"

Aerith felt _immediately _terrible about this, but she just had to know for sure if her growing hunch should indeed be heeded. If nothing else, talking aloud and having someone to listen could help- Especially someone whose just as invested in this mystery as she was.

"I'm so sorry," she slowly began. "I didn't want to wake you, but... can we... Can we talk a little more? I mean, you don't have to say anything. I just needed to know if you think the same thing I've been thinking..."

Tifa eyed her, and then incrementally lifted her head from the arm she'd been using as a pillow. She folded both limbs underneath her, blinking away her fatigue. Almost immediately, the woman was alert and intrigued by Aerith's strange behavior. If Aerith had to describe this situation in the best way possible, its akin to a frightened child rushing to wake her mother after having a bad dream. And right now, Aerith somewhat felt this exact way.

The Cetra glanced around the camp, eyed the quadruped behind her, and located Cait Sith just to see if he was listening in. Being a machine, its quite possible he could hear them anyways; no matter how lowly they whispered. This said, Aerith turned to Tifa and began to fidget.

"How about we... Can we... can we go for a short walk instead?" she muttered in a tone Tifa had to strain herself to catch.

Tifa's expression was clearly troubled, but she nonetheless nodded as any understanding friend would. Already, she was up and helping Aerith get to her own feet in turn.

Cait saw the pair rise and cocked his furry head, "What's up, ladies? Somethin' be on your noggins'?"

Tifa gingerly smiled at him, "We're gonna take a leak. You mind holding the fort here?"

The fuzz-ball gallantly saluted, his crown knocked askew from the furious motion. "Aye Aye!" he blithely reciprocated.

It may or may not fool him; but it didn't matter in hind-sight. So long as he remained here to watch over the others, that's all Aerith cared about. For all she knew, he probably anticipated that they might go for a walk anyways. Despite this, the pair left the clearing, Tifa taking a small pocket-light they'd bought after the Runen incident.

They had to be especially careful out here though; the Nibelheim wilderness was still as dangerous as ever as far as Tifa was concerned. She told the group this much; and even went scouting earlier on today just to make sure there weren't any dangerous fauna lingering around the vicinity. She deemed it clear; but that could change at any given hour. This said, Aerith couldn't help feeling even more ridiculous for having asked Tifa to do this, but she just had to know.

She _had _too.

"What's up?" Tifa pressed, disrupting the flower girl's thoughts. "Something's clearly been bothering you."

Aerith couldn't help reflexively glancing away and humming lowly; remembering all the times her friends like Nanaki or Cloud would point out the moments she emotionally felt her most dubious. Too often did her friends see her troubles; when not so long ago, she'd been able to entirely conceal it. Apparently, she couldn't do this anymore.

In the meantime, she kept her eyes trained on the branch-strewn path; knowing that the only definitive routes around here was pretty sparse; if non-existent. The only road around here was the one they had to leave their buggy parked on the side of; seeing as there wasn't any other convenient parking spaces for miles around. As for any decent nature trails, well, you'd just have to find some other region to go hiking around in. At least Tifa was an expert on the region; despite not having been here the past few years.

"I... its about that Turk you fought," Aerith blurted, knowing the sooner she got her thoughts out there, the sooner they can return to camp. "I uh... I've been wondering if you came to the same conclusion about him as I did-"

"What one?" She inquired gently, keeping a slight lead so to better guide her companion.

Aerith lingered over her earlier worries, and then, "I couldn't help wondering: Do you think that man could've been SOLDIER at any point?"

"...He had to be, yeah," Tifa nodded, her gaze suddenly further away. She then added with fluttering hesitation, "He certainly fought like one; that's for sure."

"That's what I thought..." She muttered almost drearily, remembering her talk with Nanaki some time ago, just before the night of Cloud's first (and only) fit.

The quadruped relayed some interesting points that night; despite Aerith's misplaced desire to befriend this stranger. The feel of his presence hadn't struck her as threatening, as had been the case with Zack and Cloud. Learning about this man could also potentially give them some insight on what the Turks were doing as well; like why Tseng decided on employing the aid of a clearly injured man who doesn't wish to be seen.

_Now that I think about it... Didn't he avoid Rufus that entire time we were on that ship? If he were a legitimate SOLDIER, then he wouldn't have needed to do that. Right? And, if he's really a friend of Tseng's as he seems to be with Cissnei, and yet he's hiding from what appears to be all of Shinra, then surely he's in some kind of danger too? He's also armed with military-grade weapons that aren't standard with Turk or SOLDIER specs, so then he must've gotten it from Tseng, right?_

_But then... that means Tseng armed him with the purpose to __**defend **__himself; not fight- Seeing as Cissnei told him to stand down. He doesn't want Glaive to fight unless there's a good reason for it._

_And yet he attacked Cloud for his blood... Even though Tseng's never been directly interested in Cloud before. But why would he want to do that? Why would Glaive risk exposure just to get a complete stranger's blood? I wouldn't imagine Tseng would give him that mission unless he was commanded to get it, or if he really **wanted** it for something else-_

At this, already Aerith saw similarities between this Glaive and a certain someone she dared not weigh into the equation; having never remotely considered the idea before. As soon as this epiphany hit her though, she knew she had to vocalize it with Tifa and see if she felt the same way.

And apparently, her long silence was enough to prompt Tifa to speak.

"-Aerith, what's this really about anyways? I can't help wondering if you're bringing this up for reason other than the obvious-" Tifa smoothly ejaculated, unintentionally interrupting her friend's thoughts. "-Other than him being presumably an ex-SOLDIER and all-"

"I've been giving it some thought and... I couldn't help wondering," Aerith murmured, picking up on Tifa's earlier words. "Was there anything else about your fight with him that came off as odd or _weird _to you?"

Tifa's gaze took on a much more sterner quality than ever before; her cherry-wine eyes distant. "The whole thing was weird, honestly. Not that I remember much past a certain point," she eyed the other woman next to her. "But I've already told you _that _much..."

"I know... its just-" she began again in an even lower mutter than before. "I just find it strange he's been doing all this even though Tseng wouldn't ever let his injured men back onto a battlefield if its _that _bad. Like Reno for instance; remember how we saw him in Gongaga?"

"Yeah?"

Aerith felt her mind take off then; her swirling apprehensions from earlier coming to rear its many ugly heads. "Reno was completely _healed _before we saw him again. How come this man still isn't if Tseng is usually so worried about his underlings? And he let this Glaive participate in a potentially hazardous mission where he can risk exposure-"

The martial artist shot Aerith a side-ways glance; her richly crimson stare certainly piqued.

"-I couldn't imagine Tseng would let this man continue doing what he's doing unless he had no general control over his actions _all _the time," Aerith supplied. She then went on to say, "Which sounds weird, seeing as every single one of his fellows that I've met pretty much follow his orders down to the last letter."

Tifa bobbed her head, humming as she weighed this statement. "So you think he has no control over Glaive?"

"Probably not a lot of it," Aerith murmured, looking contrite as she said so. "Or maybe we're just reading too much into it. I dunno."

Tifa said nothing to this, her gaze the most shadowy its been since they've started this walk.

"Do you think he's... I dunno," Aerith paused, stopping to sigh dramatically. "Do you think he's trying to hide from Shinra at all?"

"What do you mean?"

"Remember when we were on that boat?" Aerith started, suddenly recalling the man's stranger quirks. "He was trying to hide himself from not just the rest of the Shinra staff, but the _president himself_."

"Aerith..."

"Just hear me out, please?"

When Tifa sighed and nodded with no following counter-comment, the Ancient elaborated with, "Back on the freighter, we never saw hide nor hair of this man. He would've stayed hidden if Sephiroth hadn't been on board. Cissnei even told him to stand down when a fight _did _happen; despite how serious the battle was and my safety being put into question."

"And we all know how anal the Turks get about your well-being," Tifa harrumphed. "And yet he tried helping us fight the monster anyway, even just a little bit. But then he fought Cloud and me, despite his questionable odds..."

"Yes!" Aerith rapid-fire nodded, one hand curling against her breast. "And his gear too- I've been sitting here wondering if Tseng gave him this experimental military-grade equipment just to help Glaive stay _away _from fights. Do you think so?"

Tifa hummed, these ideas likely rattling around something fierce within her. Her ponderous frown only continued to deepen however; her gaze arrested on some far away thought instead of the path in front of her.

Eventually, the pair stopped; deciding they've walked far enough. Aerith watched Tifa rather studiously, noticing something shift within her gaze. If anything, it contained just the _slightest_, quivering note of something almost fearful; if not close to it. In fact, with every ticking, tangible second that passed, her expression grew more alarmed.

"...Tifa?"

A whole moment had gone by like this; with the martial artist standing idly as any and every crazy thought blipped on by. Her stare was glassy; impossible to decipher. Her mouth even slipped open; and its a sign Aerith couldn't help wondering was either good or bad. And all things considered, it just might be the latter.

"Aerith-" Tifa breathed with just the smallest hint of hesitation slipping through. "Do you think that man was-?"

"Huh?"

Tifa trailed off mid-sentence, but her alarmed expression remained. She'd long since forgotten that she was holding their only source of light; the stick slipping almost entirely free of her grasp. She shook her head, almost disbelievingly if Aerith had to describe it.

"No. Way," she began again, her sentence a fragmented sigh. Her gaze narrowed; the woman lifting a hand to her forehead and threading it into her voluminous raven waves. "That can't be right..."

"Great Minerva's Holy Light, Tifa! You have me on suspense here!" Aerith burst out, balling both hands over her heart.

"I..." Tifa meandered over, her profile growing ever darker in the dim lighting. "I just... I dunno. It can't be."

Aerith blew out an exasperated and slightly frustrated huff; her emeralds flashing militantly. "Tifa," she reached over and tapped the former bar-tender, briefly arresting her spotty attention onto herself. Upon seeing the clearly evident _fear _trapped within her wine eyes though, Aerith couldn't help wondering if she'd somehow managed to figure out the man's identity or something.

"...What's wrong?" she haltingly pressed. "You're scaring me here. You're acting like he's... I dunno. Did you figure something out?"

Tifa's lips flapped agape, clamped shut, and then sealed. She shook her head, but it steadily transitioned into an apprehensive half-nod that failed at the end. It nothing else, she didn't seem to believe in her own conclusion; her demeanor suggesting she may very well be trying to push it away. She clearly didn't want to believe it; but the longer she stood there, the more often her face flip-flopped between certainty and its opposite.

"..I think-" she eventually relented. "I _think _I did... But I'm still not so sure either..."

Aerith pouted out her lips; a trait she no doubt picked up from Yuffie. Getting any straight answer out of Tifa was a surprising difficult chore; considering her secretive demeanor.

Tifa fixed her grip on their flash-light, using the toe of her shoes to gouge the earth. Aerith had learned that this was a sign of her desire to escape a situation she felt most stressful in. Sometimes, it suggested yet another one of her more antsy traits; not that Aerith had learned what that was yet.

"I couldn't help thinking," Tifa tried, her tone lowering several notches. "With everything you said, maybe this presumably former SOLDIER might be... Well... you know."

"What?"

Tifa looked like she wanted to shove one of her own fists in her mouth just to stop the words from flowing; but flow they did as she passed the point of no return. She heaved yet again for the hundredth time that night before she went on, "You don't think that man was... maybe... _Zack_... at all... Do you?"

Aerith had her turn to do her best impression of a fish out of water; her face swapping between flabber-gasted and frightened. In fact, the suggestion felt so ludicrous at first, she couldn't help reacting the same way Tifa did at first; shaking her head and turning away from the possibility like she's looking truth itself in its face. Her hands lowered some, but remained clasped onto its mate as she shifted on her feet. Her mind reeled; and the weight of Tseng's words from his letter came back to press her a nice, slobbery, wet one right where it hurt most.

If that man magically _was _him, then it would suggest that the Turks were helping him somehow- or Zack was helping _them _for Gods know whatever reason. Not that the logistics of that were understood as Aerith considered Zack's parents' words: The fact that the Turks had been looking for him several months back suggested they were enemies. And yet, they have him running their errands _now_; and it suggested Tseng had an ulterior motive somewhere- especially since he hadn't deigned to give Aerith his confirmation on her boyfriend's whereabouts. And with Zack being possibly injured but seemingly _willingly _keeping his distance, it simply baffled her.

Still, Tseng's alien interest in Cloud remained frustratingly elusive; until she considered the Buster sword's current owner a little more carefully. The idea that Cloud had in fact known Zack had been considered before; but Cloud's last reactions to Zack's name had never gone over well. This said, Aerith couldn't help wondering if there's a reason why Cloud seemed to receive any mention of Zack so negatively.

_Unless he... no. Zack wouldn't betray a friend in need. That's just not something I can ever picture him doing. He's a man of honor. Right?_

_But then... why is he helping the Turks? Is it really for the reasons Mr. Greg thought?_

Aerith felt her eyes lock back onto Tifa, whose shadowed expression mirrored her own: The doubt, the hesitation, and the kernel of hardness that betrayed her own belief that Glaive and Zack could possibly be one in the same. And as that moment stretched on between the two, the more it sunk in like a sharpened, acid-caked blade through boneless flesh.

Still, Aerith couldn't help having her misgivings; unwilling to believe this portent for herself. Although, even the planet's voice had long since told her in the past just what it thought about Glaive the Turk recruit: Even _it_ seemed not at all worried about this man; whereas every other person had given Aerith the creeps at least _once_. So it suggested Glaive wasn't dangerous to her, or its a cryptic hint into who he was.

Or the planet had been trying to tell her all along that this Glaive really was Zack and she'd been too blind or oblivious to its possibility. After all, Aerith had done her best to blot out its voice during some of her weaker moments.

Eventually, the unbroken melody of the great Nibel wolf howling in the distance broke their abrasive vigil; prompting both to jump back into reality. Tifa worked her jaw once, her eyes a razor's edge as it pierced the dark. She turned to Aerith next, "We need to go."

"Huh-?"

Tifa gesticulated, the light's trajectory arrested onto the ground as if to point out their intended route back, "We need to go back to camp. We've been gone long enough. Nibelheim's woods aren't something we should be skulking around in at this hour, especially past a certain point."

Aerith almost asked 'why', but stopped herself upon realizing just how stupid a question that was. She gulped, nodded, and fell into step behind her on that note. Once their feet was moving though, Aerith couldn't help elaborating on the other woman's proposed idea from before.

"Do you really think he could be Zack?" She whispered.

Tifa bit her lips once, her gaze dead-locked on the path ahead. "Its a possibility, but one that still doesn't have much reasoning behind it." She threw a cautious glance at Aerith, "I never knew the guy, so I couldn't tell you if I found anything of Glaive so familiar except for his general SOLDIER-esque durability. That aside, I couldn't imagine if it really _was _him, and if he's as good as people keep saying he is, he wouldn't be sticking around the Turks just because he was friends with a couple of them some years back. After the whole Sector Seven incident, I wouldn't think Zack would help them unless he's getting something personal out of this."

"You think Cloud was a friend of his?" Aerith suggested, wondering if Glaive's reason for the strange job was done out of concern for Cloud's condition.

Tifa shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine. However, it would explain where he got the Buster Sword, should they have been close."

"But it doesn't explain why Cloud doesn't seem to connect Zack's name to anything good," the Cetra muttered to herself.

Another huff escaped her companion; Tifa very much wondering the same. "I guess we won't know until we see him again. Glaive, Cissnei, or Tseng."

Aerith nodded, feeling her steel harden as she remembered her sworn mission to get the Turks talking. Her eyes narrowed, fists balling once or twice as she weighed the idea.

No more. No more would Aerith flee should they come after her again. If Tseng finally decided to follow up on his mission to capture her again in earnest, Aerith knew she'd very well use that to get closer to him; despite the risks it involved. If it meant she'd find Zack in the process, she'd have no regrets. None at all.

Tifa turned to her, ignorant to Aerith's inner plan. "Let's not talk about it anymore for tonight. Okay?" she urged.

"You don't have to tell me twice," Aerith winked, although the usually cheeky gesture was clearly strained.

Tifa nodded, smiled again, and gently bumped the Ancient in a subtle show of affection. "Later then," she nodded.

"Hm!"

Once the duo returned to the camp, they found nothing out of the ordinary. No one had moved, and Cait was still surveying the land around them. The charismatic feline tipped his crown at them in genial greeting once; but then let the two head to bed without another word.

That night, long after Tifa had nodded off, still Aerith lie awake pondering the words discussed. By now, her sleeplessness was for another reason other than the cry of the planet; and its one that both excited her, and filled her with dread. She had no idea if Glaive was or wasn't Zack; and she wasn't entirely sure if she'd like the answer to either possibility.

Sure, if it _was _him, Aerith would be happy to see he's alive. However, it would mean Zack isn't technically safe with them; seeing as he's constantly exposed to such huge amounts of danger on a daily basis. Worse yet, he's apparently injured to a point that both stressed and frightened Aerith shitless.

On the other hand, if Glaive was somebody else instead, it served to deepen his enigma. Aerith just saw no other reason for his being present on the battle-field other than to serve someone other than himself. There simply wasn't anything to gain from dueling Cloud one-on-one otherwise.

_Unless he has something to lose personally._

Aerith sighed again, her eyes roving the rolling waves of russet fur on the companion next to her. Nanaki merely continued to snooze on, his belly-deep rumbles a strangely satisfying sound. Unable to resist the temptation, Aerith reached out and petted the creature; her mind arrested on his words from more than a week back. Maybe, just maybe, she'd include Red on their conversations; seeing as his nose knew better than their eyes. Having him to help divine the identity of this Glaive didn't strike Aerith as a potentially bad idea.

She glanced around at the rest of the clearing though; feeling quite bad about leaving out Barret and Yuffie; all the while Cloud had offered his help in something he had no particular knowledge of. He offered to catch the Turks, but its not for the reasons Aerith and Tifa themselves had.

_Eventually, I'll tell them all_, she resolved to herself, shutting her eyes. She stopped stroking Nanaki's side, her arm falling idle. _This I promise._

Just as she nodded off, she began lucidly dreaming of finding Zack again; this time picturing herself removing Glaive's mask and hood and revealing the SOLDIER beneath. This initially was a pleasant thought; and one that left her to smile wanly in her slumber. However, Zack could only mechanically twist up a paltry smirk; muttering "I'm sorry" to her and turning away. Aerith didn't understand what the heck she was looking at until a veil of fog devoured the man whole. Aerith slipped to her knees, a modulated cello beckoning forth from the murk:

_**...The failures, the deceivers. I feel them here. One stands plainly before me, but hides in a shroud of lies; feeding himself his delusions. The other concealed in darkness, a cowardly husk with death stalking close behind.**_

_**And it will come for him.**_

The words meant nothing to her; but everything as well. Aerith didn't fully understand them at first; distracted as she was watching Zack fade from her life as if he's her last, dying light before the Lifestream took her. But instead of the warming embrace of the planet taking her up in its swirling maelstrom; another, _darker_ presence threaded around her. It spoke softly, calmly; but its oily breath remained undiscerned beyond a certain point. Its malice tangibly scorched her innards as if someone laid her guts bare to the world and poured gasoline into her veins; igniting her feverish body in a Hellish inferno. She screamed and writhed; but then it faded as quickly as it happened.

And then the blissful nothing of true slumber finally took her away.

* * *

~777~

They're on the move again; but where in the heaven's name were they going?

He'd followed them _everywhere_; tracing and extrapolating their trajectory as they looped around the continent's lower belly and upwards again. This time, the clones were headed dead North; no longer circling more remote locations as would a lost dog. This time, they moved with purpose; they and the masses of nameless, number-less samples alike. They crept in agonizing slowness; but with a deliberate motion that he hasn't seen thus far in all of his searching.

Perhaps its finally time. Perhaps they've finally found _him_.

The reunion is coming. He just knew it. He'd know ever since then; ever since he released them earlier this year. Perhaps even further back than that.

Gast was a fool. He, and his impudent underlings. None of his gaggle of cackling clucks knew the difference between an Ancient and _she_. Not until he stuck his unmentionables into a special specimen and produced a half-blooded herald of their many fates. And he learned too late what the fruits of his folly would yield.

In the meantime, Hojo kept his head ducked, the train bumping along at a pace quite unsatisfactory to his mission. However, there hadn't been anything faster as he headed towards the continent's Northern most port; a tiny harbor town past Rocket town. His intention now was to cross the sea. He would head North; past the Bone Village and into the lands beyond; and then even past that. He would find where the samples had gone, and find the subject in question.

He will find Sephiroth; somewhere, somehow. He knew Sephiroth was somewhere up there; seeing as Hojo had already searched the Western and Eastern ones. He knew the answer lie somewhere tangible; he just had to get there first.

He knew the Turks would find him, eventually. Ah, but he wouldn't allow them to do so until he knew. Until he knew for _sure _where Sephiroth was. As soon as he discerned Sephiroth's final resting place, he will let them have their final bone. He will feed these dogs what he _wanted _to give them; and knew they'd guide him right to Sephiroth as soon as he told them where he lie.

It would be so easy. So easy its irritating. Hojo knew he had control; but even he was loathe to admit he didn't have time to wait around anymore. He'd been waiting in those labs for years; wondering if Shinra's access to its vast resources would lead him towards his last truth. However, those money-hungry fools would long-since kill the planet before Hojo found anything worth-while. So, he had to take matters into his own hands; as usual. He left them behind; but not before he left a trail of bread-crumbs for their sharply dressed dogs to sniff out.

On the side, he knew his own mortality was catching up to him as well. His arthritic hands, once so stable had begun to shake beyond his willful control. His long life was ticking down; and he knew he'd expire before he found anything; should he have continued waiting in those labs. As much as he enjoyed certain aspects of his career, it hadn't reaped much past a certain point. How dull.

"Excuse me sir."

Hojo blinked groggily, having not realized he'd been nodding off. An irritating side-effect of his lowered energy and increasing age. He glanced up, fixing his prescription glasses to his face.

The stewardess smiled quaintly, having stopped her trolley next to his seat. "Would you like any of our complimentary delights or coffees? They're only five gil each today. Its a pre-festival special!"

The mention of a festival didn't interest him; although he suspected some two-bit one-chocobo town around here was holding one to help up-lift its dreary existence. Still, the scientist lazily considered this; his gaze retaining its disinterested mask. He eventually smacked his lips, and then went to dig for his wallet.

"Wutain black bean. Sweetened. Half and half," he told her precisely, robotically.

The woman took the money, nodded, and went to make the coffee. She offered him a piping cup with a warning of how hot it was next, her smile suddenly artificial. Hojo didn't spare her another glance though beyond the exchange; instead indulging in his beverage with semi-satisfied nuance. His eyes remained locked onto a certain focal point beyond the window; his mind a flurry of questions with no evident answers.

_Sephiroth, I know you're there. I know you're still alive. I know your desire to find the truth still haunts you as well. I __**know**__ your broken mind isn't satisfied until you've received your fill of answers. _

Hojo took another sip of his generic-tasting coffee, resting a hand against his chin and supporting his head on it.

_You're too stubborn to die. You're too strong for it, even. You will not die by any mortal means. Not by blade or bullet or time itself; or at least not permanently. You're too perfect for that. _

Hojo felt the inklings of a chuckle, but merely snorted and took another sip. _Soon, _he pondered._ Soon the reunion will be upon us. Soon we'll see if my theory holds true._

_And maybe, just maybe, we'll know if we're truly meant to find our Promised land._


	13. Where Hope Dare Tread

~777~

_**-Four days after arrival: Midgar Administrative Apartment Complex-**_

Zack gustily sucked in air; doing his best to resist the temptation to punch Hendel's lights out by frightened reflex.

He'd been in and out of here quite a few times now; having stayed in the Turk building the last few days, as he wanted. However, it meant that with every day that's gone on by, Hendel had required Zack to come visit him; seeing as he couldn't hope to keep the man here anyways. Being in this featureless, white space spiked Zack's nerves; and watching the diminutive doctor stick cold metal objects against (and in) his bare torso hasn't exactly been an easy thing for Zack to endure. When the doctor asked Zack to strip and take a little nap the first time around, you can bet Zack had a _HUGE_ issue with that.

Throughout that time though, he'd been in and out of Tseng's office to discuss the dossier and Hojo's findings too. During one such visit, Zack had asked the taciturn man if there's any impending mission coming up that'll lead into him being able to help his friends; but Tseng's only reply had been this:

_"Nothing concrete on Aerith yet, sadly. However, once Hendel is done studying Cloud's blood, we'll be able to do something about him almost __**immediately**__. Perhaps we can even start treating him in earnest within the next week or two- thanks to the spinal sample you supplied."_

_Zack nodded, happy to hear this no less. However, he still couldn't help receiving this mixed news with a bit of a somber air anyways. He sighed resignedly next, "You sure you haven't come up with anything for Aerith though? Surely you found something that must've stuck out to you after all this time-?"_

_It almost sounded like he's begging at this point; but this wasn't the case. After all, Tseng has had __**weeks **__to lay out a plan for her; whereas he needed only days to help Zack whenever a situation got tight real fast. Still, Zack knew better than to get his hopes up; seeing as Tseng's immovable expression was anything to go by._

_The Turk's shoulders slumped as well, his obsidian stare locked onto Zack's glowing pair, "Believe me, I've been doing my best here. Aerith however isn't so easy to deal with due to her being such a high-priority target. In fact, you __only managed to get out of Shinra scope at all by actually almost __**literally **__dying. But making it so we stage a similar situation for her-? Well..."_

_Zack hung his head, feeling dispirited by this._

_"I've been considering a plan though; and its not to say I __**don't **__have one," Tseng went on to say; much to Zack's puzzling shock. "I sent you to Nibelheim for another reason beyond finding anything of Sephiroth's birth."_

_"Huh?" Zack cocked his head, raising one brow._

_Tseng released another pent-up sigh; shutting his eyes as if to envision the goal before him. "As you no doubt know, the only way to save Aerith's life, and to keep her safe from Shinra __**permanently **__is to stage a false death; as had been the case with you. However, Aerith has no known enemies except Shinra itself; and she isn't known to make them either. So finding someone to pose as her would-be killer has been..." He waved a hand around eye-height, "Abysmal, to say the least."_

_Zack blinked again, folding his arms and tilting his head to the other side, "So you can't stage an accident instead?"_

_"Not when she's on the move with AVALANCHE constantly, and they rigidly guard her well-being no matter where they go. On the side, manipulating so many variables in a staged accident involves a lot factors we won't always have control of," he elaborated with another bob of his shoulders. "-Which puts her unnecessarily at risk; and puts her in very real danger of actually getting hurt, or __**worse**__. So instead, we default to the original idea of having someone with a believable enough motive going after her instead. See the issue here?"_

_"And what does sending us to Nibelheim have to do with that?" Zack wondered aloud, tilting his head yet again. Seriously, he could never hope to wrap his head around Tseng's more convoluted motivations and methodologies. Every moment this conversation went on only served to confuse and frustrate him even more._

_"By inter-weaving deception with another currently existing problem, we decided we'll utilize confusion as some sort of smoke-screen," Tseng went on to say. "We wanted to make it appear so that a rogue and untouchable variable who isn't easily followed and investigated, like say Sephiroth for instance, has an interest in getting Aerith out of his way."_

_"I'm sorry, but __**HUH?!**__" Zack jolted in place. "Like where the heck did you even get that idea?"_

_"The Promised Land."_

_Now Zack was __**REALLY **__confused._

_"Think of it this way," Tseng began again, this time to thankfully simplify the thought process. "Shinra, without a shadow of a doubt, has always had an interest in finding the Promised Land. If they get a hold of Aerith however, they just may achieve it. Not that I'm saying she'd willingly relinquish the information, and that's assuming she actually __**knows **__anything about it. However-" Tseng leaned back in his chair, hands interlacing the other, "Sephiroth has, in the past, showed interest in going to the Promised Land himself, yes?"_

_Zack folded his arms, meandering around the chair in front of Tseng's desk. His expression darkened, his mind slipping back to five years ago. "He did, yeah," he confirmed with a morose air._

_"Considering that Sephiroth's warped mind is in this presumably fanatical, delusional state," The Turk director stated. "Then he wouldn't want Shinra to have a means of getting there first-"_

_"-By going after a strategically easier to reach and more vulnerable target," Zack mumbled to himself._

_Tseng nodded, his expression reflecting a firm quality the ex-SOLDIER couldn't quite place. "You're catching on quickly nowadays," he smirked._

_At this, Zack merely shrugged off this praise, but still couldn't help meekly smiling back in the process. Nonetheless, his mind turned over the Turk's words quite meticulously. "Yunno? That actually sounds __**genius**!" Zack energetically imputed. "But then... how come you just don't wanna go along with that? Its sounds pretty legit to me."_

_"Its not to say it doesn't, but its also a bit of a stretch," Tseng informed him. "Other than big-wigs like Scarlet and the others, the one person we __**really **__want to convince here is Rufus: We want him to think Sephiroth has a genuine motivation in taking Aerith out of the picture; but getting him to __**believe **__that is a different story entirely. Think about it: How would Sephiroth had known Aerith is an Ancient in the first place? Its not like they've actually met before. How would he have access to that kind of information anyways?"_

_Zack flapped his gums once, and then slammed his trap shut at that._

_"Also, why would he want to kill someone he may believe is technically family, other than to keep her out of Shinra hands? How can we can convince Rufus Sephiroth killed the girl, and with what evidence without supplying the body? And lastly, even if Aerith is theoretically 'killed', Rufus would want the body given to the science department anyways; but there wouldn't be one to give him," The Turk Head went on to say, gesticulating as if to blatantly point out the elephant in the room._

_Both men sighed simultaneously here, completely at a loss for what to do upon absorbing this. Still, it didn't quite answer one of Zack's earlier questions; and this he couldn't help asking._

_"So... you wanted us to look through Sephiroth's files for __**what**__, exactly? I'm still not getting that part," the larger man inquired._

_"Other than confirmation on his heritage as an Ancient, and to see what Hojo's done to you and Cloud; we wanted to see what data was in these files could've fueled Sephiroth's madness in the first place. His motivations, and what triggered them; as it were. If we can understand it from his point of view, we'd have an easier time selling it to Rufus in the meantime," Tseng went on to say. "-That is to say, should we go along with this plan."_

_Zack nodded, scratching his head once and moving to stand closer to the desk. "So, what, we do nothing for her in the meantime?" he inquired in a dreary tone that left nothing to the imagination as to what he felt about the impending answer._

_Tseng heaved again, his expression rather despondent within itself. When he replied, its in a way that told Zack he felt just as bad about it as he did. "Not until we figure something else out," Tseng said instead. "We could stick with the idea of using Sephiroth as a way of sorting Aerith's situation out, but we need more information on him first. Perhaps doing this will eventually help us work something out. Maybe."_

_"'Information is an asset; flexibility is a friend, and ambiguity is a Turk's primary weapon of choice'," Zack muttered to himself, upon remembrance of Cissnei's words back in Nibelheim. He straightened up and then asked, "So like, we just have to adapt and build upon what little we find, and go from there. Right? Pretty much improvise-"_

_Tseng blinked at him, untenting his hands like he was saying 'you won the prize'. "Correct," he blandly replied. "All the while we keep our motivations to ourselves; we don't want outliers like AVALANCHE or other Shinra personnel manipulating scenarios we come across in a way that plays us right into their hands. You'd be surprised just how easy it is to mislead someone with even the most sincerest goals into doing something malevolent."_

_"...Ain't that the truth."_

And beyond that, Zack did his best to come up with one hypothetical after another throughout his stay here. Whenever he thought he had any decent ideas, he wrote them all down; only to toss it away in frustration or for Tseng to reply in the negative. He ended up sitting down and discussing these things with the inscrutable Vincent sometimes too; the times he rarely ever saw him in the tower. Vincent however couldn't offer much himself, and it only frustrated Zack all the more.

Truly, it seemed Aerith's situation grew more hopeless by the day. And this was something Zack couldn't stand tolerating. He knew he wasn't going to rest until he knew how to help her.

_Never_. Never will he rest until she was safe and sound. Never will he stop plowing forward until he knew she was genuinely _happy _with her life. Never will he stop until he knew she could smile for real; and not just plaster it on for the sake of others.

That, he swore to uphold.

"Not good."

"Eh- Huh?" Zack shook himself out of his daze, blinking off his reflective stupor.

Hendel's hazel orbs were grim saucers in his round skull; the scrawny man brandishing a clip-board in hand. He passed Zack what seemed to be a piteous once-over; and its something that actually vaguely irritated him. "Your fight with Cloud and Tifa," he began in a small voice. "I don't know which one of 'em was using your chest and ribs for a make-shift sand-bag, but... Well... the damage was reversible and all, thanks to your mako-powered regeneration. But..."

"-'But'?"

"Your condition," Hendel opened up with. "You do realize you have mild to severe Traumatic Pneumothorax, right?"

Zack felt his lips thin, cocking his head at the doc, "You mentioned it before I left Midgar. Right? You said I could heal it off if I took it easy."

"And you didn't," he sounded quite cross here. "With Cissnei monitoring it, it should've died down some and eventually go away; seeing as your last mission should've had little to no combat. However, your pro-active life-style only makes it increasingly impossible for you to heal it off at _all_," the scrawny doctor stated in dour vexation. He paced around the room some, his woody eyes arrested on his patient, "If you hadn't come back when you did, you would've been experiencing a _**whole **_lot more than just a little shortness of breath, chest pain, and whatever else you refuse to admit."

Zack scowled back, but knew the doctor was right.

"Do you realize what I had to do to you when I first put you under? Right after you came back here?" He said in a voice that's not too dissimilar from a scolding parent talking down their bratty, out-of-control kid.

"You said something about air getting trapped in my chest and you having to decompress it-?"

Hendel sighed as if its the most obvious answer ever. "Yes Zack," he drawled. "That's pretty much the gist of it. Seriously though; its no wonder Cissnei's been going gray the entire time she's been out with you."

Zack propped his arms up on a single leg, curling it closer to his vibrantly colored and increasingly more scarred torso.

"Do me a big favor, Zack," continued the doc. "And _stay the Hell away from anymore fights. _Do you _want _to slip into a confused delirium and eventually into a coma and die because I couldn't get to you on time?"

"No."

"Do you want me to keep giving you numbing drugs and stick even more tubes in your chest for the rest of your life?"

"No," Zack shifted a bit in his seat, the crumbly paper beneath his rear a rude noise.

"You want a clunky oxygen machine following you around when you're older too?"

"No man! _Jeez. _I swear I'll be more careful!" Zack dramatically waved his arms, as if to push the whole scenario away.

Hendel clapped him lightly outside the skull with the clip-board, his eyes narrowed. "Then do what I tell you and _**stop**_ getting mixed up in this bull-shit. I don't care what Tseng says what you should or shouldn't do; because its my word over _his_. Even he can't tell me what to do when it comes to your well-being, or _his _for that matter. So if he orders you to get in a scrap with Cloud again-" He harrumphed, "-Just don't fucking do it. You feelin' me?"

"God. _Yes_, I get it already!"

"I hope you do, 'cuz I don't want to see you in my office again anytime soon. And I mean that in the nicest way possible," Hendel sternly imputed. He turned away and rested the board onto the table, instead reaching for a tiny pack of papers clipped together. "Now, I'm going to prescribe even more crummy meds and mako vials and send you off with these instructions on how to take better care of your body. If you don't adhere to this more carefully, you could very well die where it could've been easily avoidable."

He eyes narrowed even further, "-And since you have both J-Cell Toxicosis _and _mild-to-severe Traumatic Pneumothorax; plus whatever the heck those Sephiroth cells are doing, its all playing havoc on your weakened body. After Hojo finished tinkered around with it, I'm honestly shocked your immune system hasn't collapsed in on itself by now. Having said that, its fair to say its _especially _easy for something horrible to happen to you; should you endure anymore stress." He gave these papers to Zack directly, his autumn stare softer this time around, "You have a lotta good friends who want to see you _live _for Minerva's sake. Cissnei, Tseng, Kunsel, Aerith, your parents, and Cloud too. And me if you can believe it."

The ex-SOLDIER averted his gaze, feeling his shoulders slump heavily.

"So technically, you literally have family, friends, and a woman who loves you who only want what's best for you. That's more things going for you than most people nowadays." Hendel then added with a wistful smile, "And frankly, I couldn't help feeling honored being your personal doctor when Tseng first told me about you. You're probably the most honest person I've ever met. And if you can win over somebody as strict and loyal to the company as Tseng was, then you _must _be something special."

Zack cocked his head again, wondering where all this praise was coming from. If nothing else, it was out of nowhere; and it sounded borderline _personal_. He wanted to ask, but he didn't think the smaller individual would be inclined to say, yet. Not while he was still in mother-hen mode.

Hendel's stare was the most serious its been since when Zack first came here days ago, "Now then, I want you to know: Even though I'm wearing this Shinra badge and I still technically work for the company, I support you and Tseng's endeavors _fully_. Should this all work out, I'd be more than happy to continue on as your doctor in the time even after this. But that also involves you surviving. Get my meaning?"

When the other nodded, Hendel's expression brightened considerably. "Okay then," he nodded. "Do me a solid and make sure to send me texts. Let me know how you're feeling on the daily. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. You know I can verbally walk you through a lesser attack, should Cissnei somehow not be around."

Zack eyed the man somewhat warily, finding all of this personal talk to be weirdly disconcerting, at first. However, Zack deemed himself a fairly good judge of character; and couldn't help noticing the level of sincerity present within the doctor's words. This said, he finally came to the gradual conclusion that Hendel truly _did _care for his patients. If nothing else, its possible he took the job in Shinra in the first place just to experience the boyish joy of saving someone's life- Not get strung along by Hojo's crazy and emotionally draining escapades.

And seeing as Hendel had laid down hours, days, even _weeks _of his life just trying to keep Zack alive, he decided that maybe all of this truly _was _coming from a genuinely good heart. Not unlike Kunsel, or Cloud in a sense. Its a little jarring admittedly; seeing as Zack was used to meeting more deviant or self-centered individuals in Shinra- _especially doctors_.

"Okay," he finally nodded, realizing that he's taking far too long to answer.

"Good. Now then," Hendel turned towards his computer and typed. Despite this mind-occupying task, he went on to say, "You're free to go. As for your medical report, its going to Cissnei and Tseng; but no one else. Cissnei has to keep an eye on you, and Tseng needs to understand your limits. Otherwise, I'd keep this whole thing just between me and you; as is proper."

"Right," Zack breathed, understanding the reasoning for it. He got to his feet, going to reach for his shirt on the adjacent table. Once he pulled it back on, he asked, "Is there anything else I should know?"

Hendel didn't turn around, keeping his gaze locked onto the computer. "Just promise me you won't go deliberately looking for trouble anymore. And if not me, then at least for your friends. Or your girlfriend."

Zack hung his head, remembering his sworn vow to see Aerith safe. "I can't promise that," he murmured in a tone that betrayed his disconsolate attitude. "However, I can promise to _try_-"

"...I expected as much. I don't like hearing it, but I suppose it'll do," the medic said in a voice betraying his disappointment. Zack actually felt bad about it in hind-sight. Hendel then turned his attention away from the monitor, his expression soft, "Well then, I guess it just goes to show just how committed you are to Project Septimus, and to Cloud and Aerith in particular. I can only imagine how irritated they're going to be when they see you again though, once they see what you've been putting yourself through."

Zack huffed, his chest a sore patch-work that reminded him of just how debilitating his infirmities are.

"On that note," Hendel gesticulated. His next words were exasperated, "Get on out of here. You're done here until your next visit Midgar- or until you get into another fight. Whatever comes first."

The ex-SOLDIER balled a fist and raised it; his grin weak, but present. After plastering on his best _determined _face, he said, "Got it. Thanks again for everything, doc. Really."

"If you really wanna thank me, don't come back here so soon," Hendel admonished.

Zack smirked, and then scooped up his papers. After sifting through them in a somewhat worried daze, he turned to Hendel and said, "I'll be seein' ya."

Hendel waved him off, his gaze warm but distant somehow.

The larger man nodded back anyways, lumbering out of the office without a backwards glance. He shut the door, and then headed towards the elevator without actually realizing his feet were naturally guiding him there. He surveyed the papers, but after a few paragraphs he couldn't focus on them anymore. At that point, he was merely seeing them but not quite _absorbing _any of it.

When he finally found his bed again, he plopped down in it and tossed the paper-clipped and stapled pack on the table beside it. Folding his arms beneath his head, he eyed the ceiling and continued contemplating on how to best help Aerith; but of course, nothing came to mind. It didn't stop him from thinking though; and think he did until he eventually nodded off in the hours to come.

* * *

~777~

Eventually, the sound of the bed-room door being rapped upon stirred him from his daze; the tapping minute but audible enough to be distracting.

Zack straightened up in his seat, wondering if it was Kunsel again or something. The man had been on Zack's case the whole time he'd been here; but he'd been so happy to see his long-lost friend that Zack had forgiven the irritating aspect about it. Besides, explaining his story to the fellow ex-SOLDIER had been an enduring and stupidly long process; especially since Kunsel has had his own tale to tell before-hand.

For the record, Kunsel's tale had been this:

When Zack had gone missing initially, Kunsel scented bull-shit; and didn't buy any of Shinra's crap once the message announcing Zack's death showed up in his phone. Instead of simply lying low and pretending he had no association with his friend, Kunsel had gone on to investigate what happened; but kept hitting dead-ends thanks to the higher-ups hushing up the whole Nibelheim incident. Kunsel stayed on as a SOLDIER for a while though; knowing his position of power would enable him access to more sensitive Shinra sources.

That's where the Turks came in. Tseng had been ordered to stop Kunsel's investigations; seeing as Shinra loathed having nosy busy-bodies hovering around them like desperate buzzards. There's that, and the fact Kunsel's past association with Zack was deemed potentially dangerous. Tseng was given the order 'Zero-Zero-Dark' for those reasons; but instead of actually enacting upon it as expected, he manipulated the scenario in a way that made it _look_ like he followed through on the order. He made Kunsel disappear; and nobody bothered to investigate his disappearance further seeing as he hadn't been as notable as Zack or the Big Three. He wasn't a high-priority target like Aerith, and the escaped Zack or Cloud. Making him vanish had been a cinch for Tseng.

The door rapped again; stirring Zack from the vague recollection. He yawned and grumped as he creaked to his feet; feeling surprisingly old. He had an irritating migraine now; and he hadn't the slightest idea of where it came from. He was on _pain-killers _for crying out loud. Like, a metric _fuck-ton _of them.

_I wonder. Is this somehow connected to Cloud-? _He internally noted as he trudged his way to the door. Even when he opened it to greet his visitor, still his mind stayed latched onto that thought; finding no other reasoning for it. After all; Vincent had offered just a day ago if the two were connected somehow; especially after he told Vincent he experienced this pain during their excursion outside Runen.

When Cloud had been retelling his story, it hit Zack at _that precise second_; and not another moment there-after. It was gone as quickly as it came, and only deigned to happen when it seemed Zack (or possibly Cloud) was uncomfortable somehow.

Or maybe he was over-thinking it and its as ridiculous as it sounded. There's no way of knowing for sure until Cloud got treated. Still, it wasn't like he forgot that time he passed out at the same time as Cloud too; so there's that.

"-Eh, hello? Zack?"

The ex-SOLDIER once again blinked off his stupor, realizing he'd been spacing out right there in the doorway. He took in the sight of the rusty-haired girl before him, taking the second to identify her as Cissnei.

"Uh, huh?" He shook himself out of it; but still the migraine remained.

Cissnei's brows rested neatly against her cinnamon eyes, her gaze very much emanating concern on several degrees. At this, Zack was just now realizing how disheveled he must look, but still he ignored this as she inquired uncertainly, "You okay? You don't look so good. And you seem distracted."

_Great. I'm officially that obvious to her now._

"Eh... uh... right. Yeah. I'm good," he mumbled, waving it off noncommittally. He stood aside and pushed the door further ajar, "You can come in, ya know."

"Hm."

Cissnei casually strolled in, but her caramel-mocha stare lingered over Zack's countenance the entire time. Zack said nothing to this of course, going to shut the door and skulk his way back to bed. He rubbed his scalp next, yawning and blatantly ignoring the irritating throb of the migraine's effect resting behind his eyes and forehead.

"Somethin' you want?" he asked, hoping he didn't come off as too unfriendly. Although to be honest, he wasn't really up for visitors right now.

Cissnei took her time in replying, pursing her lips and gluing a troubled expression onto her rounded face. "I'm just letting you know Hendel already sent me the details on your recent visit. And uh," she hesitated here. "-Tseng wanted to talk to you about Cloud."

"Why don't he just send a text?" Zack pondered.

"He did. You never answered," Cissnei's eyes flicked to his phone on the beside table; lying in the exact same position its been for the entirety of the day.

"Huh? _Oh_."

Zack collapsed onto his bed, yanking the charger out of it and flipping it open just to reveal the dozen-and-a-half messages in his notifications; some from Kunsel, a couple from Cissnei, and the rest belonging to the Turk Head himself. He sighed at this, and then shook his head. _Fucking hell this is frustrating, _he internally groaned as his migraine pulsed again.

And then he realized the time, hard-core eye-balling the clock on his phone and realizing its almost _freaking midnight_. He left Hendel's office sometime after two or three in the afternoon; so finding out that he slept in to this degree was strange to say the least.

He flinched when he felt a hand on his forehead; watching as Cissnei felt for some sort of fever. When she didn't seem to feel anything different with his temperature, she gave him a cursory inspection that felt like it lasted too long. After a moment or two like this, she clucked her tongue and leveled him a serious look.

"Hm. Maybe we shouldn't go yet."

Zack blinked, feeling his gaze narrow somewhat, "Whaddya mean 'go'? Tseng say somethin'?"

"He had another job for us," she dutifully informed him, despite her apparently inner reservations. "And he wanted to talk to you about what he finally came down to about Cloud and you; based upon the results Hendel brought him earlier today."

_Must've been after I fell asleep. Man that Hendel doesn't waste any time though. _

Zack put his phone back down, his expression hardening. "Alright then. I'll get my shit packed and-"

"No."

"Who-bit-tee what now?"

Cissnei shook her head again, her inner-most emotions strangely open this time around. No cryptic stares, no coy commentary, no fondly irritated and half-hearted scowls. She just stood there, her arms suddenly before her and no longer hidden behind her back. If anything, one had wondered to the other; clasping her forearm like she wanted to hug herself but didn't. Its a gesture Zack saw _rarely_; if at all. He could probably count on a tonberry's hand just how many times he saw this throughout all of his _years _in knowing her (not including the five where he was absent).

She shook her head, suddenly unable to meet his brilliant gaze, "I don't like this. I don't feel comfortable with going back out there with you hurting so bad." Her down-trodden gaze deepened, "I know its probably not so bad most times, but in conjunction with the J-Cell sickness and the exhausting nature of our work on the side... I just don't like this. You're not any better than when Hendel first released you."

Zack flapped his mouth at her, wondering what and where the Hell this was all coming from. "Sis-" he started, not at all understanding this coiling mass of _nope _wriggling its way through his innards.

He suddenly recalled her odd, emotional explosion back at Runen; quickly landing upon the one thing about it that struck him as most peculiar: It was like she's been internalizing all of her worst ticks; bottling up the most complicated and possibly misunderstood feelings for the sake of her mission throughout her years- and _especially _most recently. However, when she saw Zack creep back into his room that night in Runen, with Cissnei finding out just how injured he was, the girl had _exploded_.

Not explode in a way that's absolutely uncharacteristically crazy or truly epic; but in a self-contained, stifling, barely muzzled way that told Zack she's been doing this for a very _**long **_time. He quickly noted just how unhealthy this was; and internally wondered if he'd been merely adding onto the emotional garbage she no doubt slugged around. This thought made Zack feel immediately guilty; his brain bringing him back to Hendel's words just earlier today.

Cissnei shook her head once, and then released her arm; only to fold both across her breast. "I- I've been quiet about it, but even Kunsel had noticed," she mumbled, her words directing Zack's wavering attention back onto herself. "He already knows you're not well; and aren't improving. And with what I saw in the report, I can't say I haven't been considering not going at all."

Zack surveyed her carefully, wondering on to how best reply in this situation. If he didn't know better, he could swear she was in a mentally vulnerable place right now.

"Cissnei," he tried, keeping his tone low but firm. "I'm _fine_... Really. I just need to keep staying low is all. I just don't feel great now 'cuz I was stupid, like you said-"

"Then why don't you stay here a little longer?" she interrupted with just the slightest edge in her tone. "You and I both know its better for you; Hendel can keep looking after you-"

He rested both arms on his knees, keeping his oceanic gaze perfectly level with her own, "Cissnei. You and I both know that's not how it works. I can't sit around for that long; especially considering the shit Shinra's been pulling. I just don't have that luxury." He heaved, "I know its gonna sound corny, but I can't wait around for every injury to heal while Cloud, Aerith, and the rest are still running around with Hell on their heels. If I can do something about it, then I damn well _will_."

The girl's expression darkened several shades, but then her head lowered enough so that she's no longer meeting Zack's eyes. She relented, but she didn't seem happy about it.

At this, Zack couldn't help feeling absolutely terrible, but he knew it also couldn't be helped. He took that second to breathe; gathering his thoughts so he could best supply her the answer she may be looking for. "You were right in telling me I should be picking my fights more wisely," he tried this time. "Truth be told, even Hendel _and Angeal _in the past lectured me about it."

Cissnei wrinkled her nose again, looking very much like she had more to say.

Zack didn't let her, of course. Instead, he went on, "I understand this much: There's a big difference in me being part of a fight, or _avoiding _one in general. As I understand it, you want me to do a better job in staying out of them." He gesticulated here, waving a hand once, "I told Hendel this, and so I'm gonna tell ya now: I promise I'll do better in picking my fights. However, if push comes to shove and I actually get involved in one, I'm giving it my all; no matter what."

He leaned towards her, so to better meet her expression, "You do it too; you don't back away from a fight if it boils right down to it. You'd gladly give yourself up for a Turk brother or sister, no matter what condition you're in. Am I wrong in that assumption?"

"...No," Cissnei sighed, sounding strangely like a child that's just lost a fight with their bigger and more sensible sibling.

Zack suddenly reached over, placing a gentle hand on Cissnei's russet scalp and ruffling it somewhat. He managed to properly catch her eye this time; keeping her gaze locked in place with his own while adding a toothy smirk on the side. "Look," he began again, not bothering to sever the contact between his palm and her head. "I'm telling ya; I won't go picking fights I can't win. If it really boiled down to it, I'll _absolutely_ avoid them. But if someone's life is on the line, like yours or Aerith's or Cloud's, or even Tseng's-"

He smirked even more brightly here, "-Then I'm gonna get involved, and I'm gonna give it everything I got. If I didn't, I'd think you would've seen it reflected in my track record throughout my service history more often." He finally released her then, hands resting on his knees, "I can't half-ass a fight; and I know you certainly don't. You understand why, right?"

The girl nodded, her expression morose but incrementally harder than it was before.

"Okay then. I guess I've said my peace," Zack scratched his head, getting to his feet next. He then stepped around her, reaching for his previously discarded duffel and satchels. "I'm gonna get ready for the job. While we're out, I promise-" He threw her another backwards glance, "-If you're really that worried, then I'll do better in _trying _to stay out of the thick of it. I won't take anymore unnecessary risks. If a fight looks hopeless and there's nothing to gain from it, I won't stay in it. However, I can't extend that promise if someone else's life is in danger. Understand?"

Cissnei kept her gaze leveled elsewhere, her amber coals for eyes locked onto Zack's rumpled bed. Her shoulders were slumped, her arms keeping their folded position across her chest. Eventually, she released a pent-up breath and dragged her eyes shut; as if coming to terms with something.

"...Alright," she breathed, finally letting her arms drop to her sides. "I guess I can't ask for more."

She said that in a way that seemed more like a resigned obligation; not a willing choice to be made. Zack of course didn't think that would do; so he immediately settled upon a bolder approach that's a little different than his usual way of assuring someone. His expression flickered, and then he was right there within her bubble quicker than he can think twice. Cissnei jerked at this, not at all expecting the sudden invasion of her well-established personal space-

And then he's pulling the tiny woman close; hugging her as he would any intimate, long-time friend. And seeing as she's saved his life on more than just a few occasions, and had shown devoted willingness in putting him above her entire life's work; how could he not?

He moved one arm over her shoulders, and another around her head; as he would if she were in a dangerous situation and he had to protect _her _from it, for once. Her warmth was this slight, fragile presence; barely passing her tux and betraying just how _small _she was. Like a candle that just couldn't burn hot enough; flickering meekly in a bitter, Northern-chill that threatened to smother it. Being head and shoulders taller than she only continued to cement this fact; the girl being pretty even with his chest.

Cissnei's surprise couldn't be more evident; especially with the rigid way she held herself. Zack could tell just from the feel of this hold that she wasn't used to this kind of contact _at all_. If nothing else, he couldn't help wondering how often she got a hug or some other sign of affection from her familiars- Something as snug as a simple, very basic, very _human_ embrace. The most he's ever seen was Tseng willingly patting her shoulder and smiling in a way he's never once witnessed.

The more he thought about it, the more he thought about giving her hugs like this if no one else was doing it. Hell; Zack wasn't above hugs. He actually loved them, in hind-sight. To be honest, he never got the chance to give them often after he joined SOLDIER; he'd been mostly surrounded by a bunch of pig-headed meat-shields with a god complex in that time. The last recipient of his hugs were a comatose Cloud and Aerith before him. Angeal was the last one even before that. He'd gotten something like this from Kunsel just a little more recently too, but more often than not, Zack ended up getting hugged more or less by dudes than gals. Its not that he didn't appreciate it, but sometimes it was just _weird_\- especially for a self-proclaimed chick-magnet stud like himself.

So why _not _give one to Cissnei? Every person deserved a good one, right? Especially a girl who tried her damnedest to see he was okay every day; or covered his ass if Shinra came sniffing around. And with that particular thought hitting him, he couldn't help the jump in his throat; somewhat glad Cissnei couldn't see it right this instance. His hold marginally strengthened; his jaw clenching once and releasing just as swiftly.

After some terse seconds in this strange mental limbo, Cissnei seemed to remember herself. Considering Zack wasn't going to let go until she did something, the smaller girl could only oblige; albeit with _sheer _reluctance. She moved almost mechanically; as if she didn't know where to place her own limbs. Eventually, both arms found their way around his waist; her grip as uncertain as if she's treading thin ice. When another moment passed after this, her hold became stronger; and the clumsy grip became a desperate _vice _that betrayed her innermost gratitude. The end result was a snug hold that certainly perked up both she and himself.

Once he felt some sort of long, severely drawn-out breath escape her, he knew he finally managed to break through _somewhere_. He didn't what or where exactly, but its progress he couldn't help inwardly fist-pumping over. He dipped his head down some, his next words audible only this close.

"...Don't worry so much for me. Worry about yourself once in a while," he murmured, breath ruffling the rogue strands atop her head. "Sometimes, I can't help wondering about how _you _deal with the shit you do on the daily. Frankly, I don't wanna be losing anymore friends nowadays. If nuthin' else-" He sighed again, his chest heavier than usual, "They're in pretty short supply. You know what I mean?"

He felt a slow nod, her arms tightening again once before he felt her gradually (_begrudgingly_?) release them. Sensing the moment was over, he hesitantly obliged and stepped away as well. He kept her gaze though as he went on, jabbing a pointed finger next, "And I promise I'll do better. But you gotta promise me somethin' too!"

"Hm?" Cissnei tilted her head some; but not by much. She was probably picking this up from _him _for all he knew.

Zack kept his finger elevated as he said, "Promise me you'll take better care of yourself? That you'll remember to take it easy once in while. You work so damn hard that its freakin' _irritating_." He shook his head as if to tut at her, "You're always tired, always stressed, and the first person you worry about is usually me; which is flatterin' and all, but it works both ways: What I do to make you worry on a daily basis is pretty much what you're doin' to me too. Get my meaning?"

"I do," she nodded, arms behind her back.

Zack jabbed it again, this time more furiously, "I mean it; I'm holding you to that. You're gonna watch out for yourself too. Right?"

"Right," she gently smiled.

"Don't be sayin' that just to appease me."

"I'm _not_," she asserted.

"Okay then. Now we're cooking with actual fire here," he cockily smirked, feeling much better than he did before she'd come in. If anything, his own worn nerves felt as if a healing balm had been rubbed all over them; his grin much more vividly brighter than its been since seeing Kunsel for the first time in years. He felt _himself_; and that couldn't have cheered him more.

By now, her own current smirk wasn't her coy, false, or playful one; its something else _entirely_. His best approximation of it was earnestly affectionate; and he couldn't help smirking over it himself as he realized he succeeded in making her feel better. Even just a little bit.

"'Kay then, lemme get dressed a bit more properly and get my stuff together. I can meet you in his highness's office," he chortled, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

Cissnei giggled back; the sound demure but sincere. Zack hadn't heard something like that since that one time he made her genuinely laugh back in Nibelheim. Internally, he couldn't help wondering if he can get her to do this more often.

"Alright," she finally relented. "I'll see you in a minute, then."

"Cool."

He watched her glide over to the door and open it; but just as she was about to walk through, he couldn't help jerking as a passing thought smacked him outside the head. He gasped and dramatically threw his hands up in shock. At this, Cissnei jumped in place and whirled around herself.

"Zack? What is it?"

"Oh. My. God! _Cissnei!_"

"What?" She came back towards him, her expression darkening.

"It just hit me," he suddenly blurted.

"For the love of all things good, just spit it out already," she pressed.

"I finally have some _bad-ass _names for my blades!" he giddily exclaimed, waving his fists like a child in a candy shop.

Cissnei's jaw flapped open, slammed back closed, and then she threw one of Zack's shirts (which was lying on the floor in a rumpled heap) right at his stupid face. "Great Minerva, you had me thinking its something serious!" she grumped, her expression however was part-way half-hearted; despite her harsh tone.

"I didn't mean to scare ya!" He pulled off the wadded up article and threw it in his bag, not caring if it needed a wash for the moment. "It hit me just like that, that's all!"

Cissnei harrumphed, shook her head, and whirled on her heel. She puffed her way to his door and was shutting it before Zack could get another word in after her.

"Hey! Wait a sec! Didn't you want to hear the names?" He barked, snorting gustily after her. "They're pretty frickin' cool!"

* * *

~777~

After Zack finished up his packing, he trudged his way to the Turk Head's office; feeling a little apprehensive despite the man being his friend.

Inwardly, he knew Tseng's words couldn't be good; and it never usually was. And with his seemingly urgent desire to talk about his accumulated results from Hendel's extensive testing, there's no doubt that Zack would receive this about as elegantly as he did when he first learned about the chip in his head. Worse yet, Zack knew Hendel couldn't be all the way done in just _four days_; and he knew there would be far more yet to come. Give or take a couple more weeks.

Without much eagerness or ceremony, Zack entered the office with his spare clothes (and Aerith's _**STILL **_unopened letters) slugged over his shoulder already. His mask was in place, his weapons equipped, and his armored bracers a reassuring weight on his forearms. He kept his gaze as expression-less as possible; having not bothered with the goggles for the moment.

Tseng looked up, having Vincent, Kunsel, and the certainly more cheered Cissnei standing around his table. Cissnei passed him her best approximation of smile; but the strained quality about it told Zack enough immediately. He nodded at her though, and then seated himself in the vacant swivel in front of the desk. Cissnei and Kunsel were at his sides, whilst Vincent hovered over by the wall; leaning coolly against the dark, featureless space.

And as soon as Tseng opened his mouth, _everyone _was immediately emotionally invested.

"Hojo has been sighted," he began in his best business tone, poker mask sewn solidly in place. "Headed for the Northern Rocket Port two hours away from Rocket Town itself."

Zack was almost on his feet again at this; but forced himself to keep seated anyways seeing as he knew he'd only get too excited by this news. Beside him, Cissnei was thankfully asking for him, "Are you sending us after him?"

"I could, but you'll miss him by the time you get there," Tseng shook his head gravely. "However, Septimus himself is _personally _on him as we speak, alongside Freyra. For the record, Zack," he leveled the ex-SOLDIER a more direct stare, seeing the passing flicker of confusion in the other's azure gaze. "Freyra is my best head-hunter within the out-laying Turk operatives. She's been doing this her whole life actually; even _before _joining the Turks. So if anyone can track him down, its her. In fact, she's the one who saw Hojo and relayed the information."

"How?" Zack rasped through his respirator.

"As an outside member who doesn't get paid for her services, Freyra has a job as a steward on the trains going between Rocket town and the other towns surrounding it. She keeps an eye on any suspicious individuals who board them; and will let Septimus or me know directly," he shrugged helplessly next. "However, she can't personally apprehend them until after they get off; seeing as it'll cause too much commotion. She gets paid to _serve _them while they're on the train; not wrestle them down and blow her cover."

"Oh."

Tseng then lifted his chin, his expression briefly smug but proud, "I trust her Intel completely, alongside her instincts. She can keep on a target if they stick out too much; and seeing as she's blazingly passionate about it, you can't deny the results she's garnered us in the past. She'll definitely keep tabs on Hojo for the time being."

Zack noticed Cissnei's expression shift; the look almost _gleeful _to him. He found it strange seeing something like this on her, but he took this as a good sign. All things considered, he couldn't help feeling the same; and he had no doubt Vincent shared in this sentiment.

"Now then, as good as this news is, it won't be long before Freyra gets her man," Tseng went on in an almost bored tone. "Which is both good, and somewhat _bad_ in a way. Once she has him, he'll be given to Septimus first and foremost for interrogation. However, Sir won't be able to hold onto the man long before he has to do something about him..." He sighed here, "Hojo will probably end up seeing Septimus' identity, or discover the Sect's existence. We can't pass Hojo along to the Turks within the company if that happens; as he'll tell Rufus about us once the president learns we had him first."

"But if you don't relinquish his custody," Vincent spoke up this time, surprising Zack somewhat. "-And end up consequentially killing him for seeing Septimus and the project close-up, Rufus will be angry the Turks failed in capturing him."

Zack's jaw flopped open, realizing the repercussions of this.

Tseng bobbed his shoulders, hands keeping their tented position in front of him. "It can't be helped," he sighed. "We're stuck between a rock and a hard place in this one; should Freyra succeed _or _fail."

"On that note, it sounds like you'd have to let him _go _for now," Cissnei wondered aloud.

"Now I didn't say that," Tseng informed her. "I'm afraid we just _can't _let Hojo go; seeing as the next time he appears, he'd be most likely willingly giving himself up to the authorities. The Septimus Sect wouldn't have been able to extract the information we needed regarding his project on Cloud and Zack; and then what we've all worked towards will be for nothing."

The Turk stood then; going to meander around his desk again. Zack was quickly learning that this was some sign of a nervous tick; or something akin to it. "And when that happens," continued Tseng grimly. "Should Rufus get a hold of Hojo and extract what he wants from him, given Hojo relents at all, he'll end up telling the president of Sephiroth's lack of relation to Aerith. And when that eventually comes to pass-"

"HOLY SHIT AERITH'S LIFE WILL BE IN DANGER!" Zack roared right then; immediately on his feet at this revelation.

"Yes," the Turk Head quickly confirmed; ever the master of dead-pan.

Zack spun around on his feet; wondering why he wasn't on a helicopter and half-way to Aerith already. He paced around, his emotions near-boiling point already.

"Now, considering we're now on a timed clock," The dark-haired Turk elaborated, gaining Zack's attention again. "I've settled on letting Septimus and Freyra capture Hojo anyways; before Rufus knows anything about it. They'll come to him disguised; and hopefully he won't be able to identify them as part of the Turks or ex-Shinra. Hojo will be blinded and apprehended accordingly, but he may eventually figure out the Septimus Project's existence in the following interrogation anyways; considering the nature of the questions that will be posed."

He circled his desk completely by now; moving past the group and migrating his way to his gigantic, panoramic window over-looking the vast majority of Midgar's streets. "That said, we'll have no choice but to make a hasty decision; whether to kill him, or hand him to us here in the main Turk branch. And then, Rufus will see we've got him, but he'll learn what we've been doing behind his back; even if Hojo never figured out Project Septimus."

"So, what're you going to do?" Kunsel asked, looking just as worried about this as any of them.

Tseng's fingers were loosely intertwined behind his back; so Zack was clearly able to see the nervous roll of his digits like they wanted to tap a dance on a flat surface. "Admittedly, I don't know," he began again; only this time his words struck fear in all those present. "All I know is that should Rufus decide he'd much rather kill us off than give us another chance, I suppose we'll have to defect from Shinra. I've accepted that, as had Reno when I talked to him last."

Cissnei's slack-jawed expression couldn't be more obvious; the girl by now standing ram-rod straight with the very primal definition of _fear _within her gaze.

"I've decided though, if all else fails, we'll kill him and claim it was an accident," Tseng drawled, almost like he's talking about the weather. "-Like what happened with Ifalna fourteen years ago."

"Do you really think that'll be a passable excuse?" Vincent inquired, his guttural growl marginally concerned.

Another shrug, "Probably not, which brings us back to the original idea of us defecting." Tseng turned around and returned to his seat, hands tenting together again. "Although admittedly, we do have another solution to all this."

"Then why didn't you just say so _**sooner**_?" Zack angrily snarled, feeling his heart fall right back out of his enlarged and partially dried out throat. His respirator had felt too tight around his face; his migraine flaring up again after his initial reception of this information.

The Turk dipped his head at his friend, repentant of making him feel so on edge. "I wanted to be clear about the stakes involved before I said more. As soon as we understand the risks, only then can we proceed." His slate-gaze turned flinty suddenly, "Zack, do you remember us talking about having Sephiroth pose as a would-be murderer for Aerith?"

The mention of this portent certainly garnered the attention of everyone in that room; all sets of eyes switching between the aforementioned ex-SOLDIER and his superior.

"Yeah?" What about it?" He asked while folding his arms.

"I've decided we can probably simply kill off Hojo using Sephiroth as a realistic and likely scapegoat," he matter-of-factly imputed. "-Seeing that Sephiroth would've seen the research relating to his birth, and Hojo's blatantly obvious involvement in it- Plus what I've already deliberately funneled to Rufus; we can easily convince the president Sephiroth finally came upon Hojo and killed him out of vengeance. And seeing as Sephiroth is presumably not mentally stable, I don't think the president will argue with the insane, genocidal and murderous intentions Sephiroth's already established having."

Zack blinked, nodding approvingly at this. Cissnei and the others reacted very similarly as well; seemingly agreeing whole-heartedly to the suggestion. Vincent didn't move, but his eyes glinted in a way Zack couldn't quite miss.

"With this fiction established," Tseng droned on, "I think I can almost safely say, we can even use this development to help Aerith too."

"Wha- How- Really?" Zack lowered his arms, feeling his spirits lift somewhat. He knew Tseng well-enough by now to know he shouldn't get his hopes up too much though.

"Hm."

"But- wait a sec here," Cissnei started this time. Already, she'd wrapped her whip-smart mind around the Hojo-related aspect of the situation. Its likely she even figured how it could tie in with Aerith as well. With a hand under her chin, she said, "-I thought we don't know if any of the Sephiroth sightings we're getting are legit? How can we convince Rufus the _real _Sephiroth killed Hojo? Or Aerith for that matter?"

"Hopefully, his motivations I'd think would be proof enough," Tseng in-toned. "Sephiroth has a personal stake in this, considering Hojo's actions towards him ever since before his birth and well into his adult-hood. Perhaps we can even establish the additional mis-information that this was, in fact, the _real _Sephiroth and direct Rufus to keep going after him and not AVALANCHE. It'll take the heat and the spot-light off of them long enough to give us some breathing room to deal with them. And while we're at it-" He actually _smiled _here, "I think we can finally lead Rufus into thinking-"

"-That the real Sephiroth is really interested in killing Aerith too!" Zack excitedly boomed, pumping both fists in unrestrained joy. The tonal shift in this conversation had completely turned-around here; filling Zack's veins with a thrill he couldn't control.

"Perhaps," Tseng nodded, keeping his reserved expression in place. "Not that we still have a fool-proof way of selling that possibility, yet."

"Is it possible that through this meeting, Hojo could've willingly told Sephiroth he isn't a true Ancient?" Zack tried instead, his words nearly jumbled thanks to that aforementioned thrill.

"I'm not entirely sure if he's willing to do so unless he's trying to enrage Sephiroth on purpose," Tseng shrugged. "Whether or not the situation _is _hypothetical."

Zack snapped his fingers, muttering "Damn" right after.

"-If nothing else, Sephiroth could possibly figure this out for himself after engaging Cloud and the others at some point-" Tseng offered instead. "-Not counting the encounter on the ship though, seeing as we all know that Sephiroth was a fake. However, if we can get that bump out of the way, we could also probably say Sephiroth came after the girl just to spite Cloud; who we know bested him several years ago."

"So," Cissnei placed a thoughtful hand on her chin. "-If we can tell Rufus Sephiroth learned about Aerith's heritage through a believable meeting with Cloud, then the whole scenario will have almost all its set-up. Right?"

"Man my brain hurts," Kunsel grumbled.

"You and me both, buddy," Zack shrugged at him.

"That may sound feasible, but will it be enough?" Vincent queried while keeping his own arms folded. "Say you carried out the ludicrous idea of sending a fake Sephiroth to 'kill' Aerith right before her friends' eyes to further cement the illusion- how can that possibly work if you don't have the real deal? And who the hell could even pose as him to begin with?"

"Ah. All good questions," Tseng smugly replied, his composed demeanor completely glaring. Zack had never seen the man like this before, honestly. "-And they all have one, good answer. Allow me to finally get into the main focus of our entire conversation."

The man went into his desk and pulled out a drawer; the clattering of a tiny, glass-like object becoming audible with the motion. Zack already had a pretty good idea of what he's about to see by the mere sound of it; but still his excitement refused to be abated as he witnessed Tseng draw out a very plain-looking magic materia. The green orb shone brilliantly in his palm; as innocuous, unblemished, and unassuming as any crystallized gem Zack has ever seen.

"What you're looking at is the first and only _**working **_proto-type of its kind," The Turk elaborated in a serious manner. "I have a small bunch of these in our weapons hangar in the basement here, but none of them work. Zack, you probably remember seeing the jelly-materia when I first out-fitted you, yes?"

Zack blinked and cocked his head, indeed recalling the many failed attempts at materia fusion in the secret basement below. He remembered the eerie sensation of that one summon materia, the one that emanated toxic gas, and the one that had a constant discharge of violent electricity. As for the jelly-one, he couldn't recall what that formerly was before its fusion.

Seeing the recognition in his gaze, Tseng nodded and went on, "Nobody knows about this brand new, and finally successful crystal; except for the developer who fused this. As it is, the man agreed to not speak a word of this materia to Scarlet; as he knew it would be too powerful in her hands. He also made the majority of the materia the Turks and Zack are currently using; so he understands the secrecy involved. I trust in his work, and in his loyalty; seeing as he's a man even Septimus hired on personally some years back. That said-"

He lifted the gem until its eye-level with himself, but still his serious expression remained fixed in place, "This thing you're looking at is also still _experimental_. Meaning, whatever other effects or limits it has are largely unexplored. Moreover, producing this took a great deal of resources that can't be replicated in mass production; so its not like Scarlet can make these even if she did learn about it." He threw the orb once in the air and caught it, his stony gaze belying the twisted amusement glittering within his beetle-black eyes. He was enjoying milking the suspense here; as in _visibly happy _about the secret little weapon he had.

"As to what this does... well, I think its best to demonstrate," he informed them. "And yes, before any of you ask, I did say its experimental. But potential risks aside, from what we did find out about this thing, it functions as it should. So do not worry about any back-lash for the time-being." He then brandished the materia, holding out as if to mutely say "Behold"; and then he balled his fist. The gem fused with his body, disappearing into his arm as he put it behind his back.

And then Zack visually understood why this thing was so dangerous.

What it did, well, it couldn't be explained easily. But if he could look back upon this day in the distant future and describe this moment to anyone listening into this story, it was in these words:

Tseng's face practically _melted_; but it didn't do exactly that either. It almost shimmered; his features as distorted as a reflection in rippling water. And then, his hair shortened and lightened considerably with each flickering wave of the materia's effect. His eyes did very much something similar, Zack looking on in helpless shock as Tseng's familiar slate-gray and hooded gaze continued to brighten until he was staring at a color almost its total polar opposite-

_Light blue, _to be precise.

Everyone in the room, Vincent included, were now standing completely breathless with weighty surprise as they stood eye-to-eye with _Rufus fucking Shinra _of all things. Or rather, his doppelganger: He still wore Tseng's black tux and possessed the same height, but its unmistakably _his face _sitting on top of the Turk's shoulders. In fact, he even chuckled; the sound almost exactly matching the president's iconically more arrogant harrumph.

"Well then," he began in his usual, prim and eerily calm monotone. "I suppose I can consider your flabbergasted expressions a way of knowing the materia worked."

"Whaaaaaaaaa-" Zack garbled, his words barely above baby-babbling.

Cissnei slapped a hand against her temple, her amber eyes wider than platters. "Great Gaia be merciful- What the _fuck_-?"

Kunsel and Vincent spared no words themselves, choosing instead reserved silence and stupefied staring.

Tseng actually chuckled again, and it unnerved his audience with its believability. He then meandered around his desk, keeping Rufus's smug smirk glued on his face, "As you should know, this over-powered gem was formerly ordinary Transform materia. It no longer has these original spells, but its not really needed for the mission ahead. With extensive experimentation, it became Shape-Shift upon successful creation." His tone become stiffer as he went on, " And as you would expect, it does have a few drawbacks: I can't maintain this illusion for more than two minutes, for instance. Maybe three on a good day and a decent cup of coffee. The draw on my stamina however, even now its near debilitating."

And as if on cue, the president's mask vanished before them, leaving only a haggard Turk in his place. He actually had to stop and breathe here, taking the moment to gather himself and sit back in his swivel chair. Once he was comfortable, he willed the materia back into solid being; letting the orb emerge from his palm again.

He spared the crowd a tired glance, his smile still present unbelievably, "Should anyone use this for too long, they'll inevitably pass out from sheer exhaustion. The illusion it casts is actually tangible; but its also localized. Meaning, you can't use it to cover your entire body." He huffed again, his expression dimmer, "As an example, if I were to use this to make myself appear like Zack here, the effect wouldn't be as convincing. I would have your face, but my height and weight wouldn't change or shift enough to have your same muscle mass. However, due to Rufus being my equal in terms of basic average size, I can mimic his appearance nearly _flawlessly_."

He suddenly tossed the materia to Zack; shocking the latter in the process. The ex-SOLDIER nearly fumbled it, playing hot-potato with it being finally settling. Zack darted glances between it and he; his brain slowly ticking back to normal function.

Seeing his shock still hasn't quite subsided, Tseng went on to say, "In case you haven't already figured it out, yes: The effect tickles too; and its not really in a pleasant way. At the very least, its not painful." He chuckled yet again next, "It took us quite a while to finally make it so that it didn't just permanently disfigure your face for life and leave a painful mess."

Zack wanted to drop it suddenly; as if half-expecting it to bite his hands off. Suddenly, he heard an "OH!" and couldn't help focusing his attention Cissnei, whose hands were both covering her mouth.

"I get it now," she reverently started. "You want Zack to use this, right? To turn into Sephiroth and carry out the illusion of killing Aerith or Hojo?"

"Da fuck-?" Zack sputtered.

"That's precisely what I have in mind," Tseng confirmed. "And seeing as he's had more training in endurance, he can make the effect last twice as long than when I use it. I think physically speaking, the only person whose able to mirror Sephiroth's might or get as close to it as possible is Zack here. If I'm not mistaken, you've even trained with Sephiroth a few times, yes?"

"I... Eh... Yeah... I did-? But- I'm not-"

"I know this is a demanding and daunting task," Tseng calmly asserted before Zack could choke out a proper response. "-Especially since it'll no doubt put you at risk at some point. But other than Kunsel here, I literally don't have any other person of former SOLDIER affiliation who can do this. No one else alive other than Hojo knows Sephiroth's quirks and can replicate the illusion nearly half as well. As an example, Kunsel's never trained with Sephiroth; and doesn't know his patented Octaslash. He isn't as physically large either."

Kunsel sighed, as if feeling put-out by this whole plan.

"Frankly, I'd much rather have him do this than ask you," Tseng admitted, his gaze harder than it was before. "-Especially considering the lecture I got from Hendel regarding your health. But if I wasn't confident that you'd know how to escape a bad-enough situation, I wouldn't have bothered you with this. You've been under enough duress lately as it is."

Zack finished reclaiming his composure; shaking his head and then jabbing a finger at Tseng rather harshly. "Look man," he tartly replied. "If you comment on my 'condition' like everyone has been doin', I'm gonna flip this fucking desk over and throw it out your expensive-ass window. I've heard that word enough times this week."

The Turk merely chuckled at him, "Think you can break bullet-proof glass that can actually also repel materia-based magics and SOLDIER-level temper tantrums?"

"Oh ho _boy_," Zack threw up his arms, briefly forgetting he had the tiny, emerald gem glinting innocently in his hand. "You wanna put a bet on it?"

The other shrugged it off, "Alright. I'll refrain from using the word again. Anyways-" He untented his hands and held them up in submissive acceptance. "As I was saying, I want Zack to pose as Sephiroth, but I'm letting Cissnei spear-head this operation; seeing as she'll actually be on sight and able to aptly judge whether or not to enact on this. I can't formulate a proper plan that'll remain flexible enough to tackle whatever growing development happens around the situation- and whether Zack will be physically capable of pulling it off on a decent day."

"I... _huh_?" Cissnei blinked. "Sir, you can't be serious-?"

"I am," Tseng told her, his gaze lingering over she. "You have the experience for it, and the best judgement. Besides Mr. Valentine here, of course."

Cissnei looked positively taken aback, her mouth working but no sound coming out. Eventually, she said, "What about Reno? Or Rude for that matter? Those two have _far _more experience than I do, and they're part of the Project too-"

"Make no mistake," the elder Turk replied. "Those two are sufficiently experienced enough to guide you along, should you need it. However, they have their own jobs to worry about right now; and they're helping me keep Rufus pacified. If you really think you need the help though, you're free to ask. But keep in mind-" He spared Cissnei a warm stare that matched the one he had when he first told her about his promotion; his gaze fleetingly warmer, "I also confide in your extended experience and situational judgement to be more than enough. I can't say it may go off without a hitch, but that's what you have Reno, Rude, Sir, and even Vincent here for; should you have any remaining reservations. Understand?"

Cissnei's mouth claimed shut, her expression steeled.

"Excellent. Now then," Tseng faced the rest of the group, his eyes focused almost solely on Zack in this instance; who was by now pocketing the materia for future use. "-I only have one more thing to add this conversation; and its a topic I wanted to save for last. After that, you, Cissnei and may depart for your next mission."

"Eh-" Zack raised a pointer finger at him, confused as to what the mission was _specifically_. Sure, Tseng had gone on at great length describing how to deal with Hojo and Aerith, but he never explicitly told Zack what he's doing exactly.

Seeing this, Tseng immediately clarified, "Cissnei will give you the run-down beyond this point. I already told her what you three should do. From hence-forth, she's taking charge of this mission entirely."

Zack passed his other friend a glance, "And Kunsel? What about 'im?"

"Kunsel's got another assignment to get on. I'll be guiding him there myself," Tseng pointed out.

"Ah. So, what, you're a part of this now?" Zack inquired as he folded his arms.

Kunsel puffed out his chest, his leafy green gaze jovial. "Tseng's already gotten Septimus' permission to let me be a part of this operation. I'm officially a member of the Septimus Sect!"

_Of course he is. He never did learn how to keep his nose to himself, _he internally sighed. Still, Zack grinned at him anyways; even high-fiving him next.

Tseng then interjected with, "I don't mean to spoil the good mood, but I wanted to briefly go over Cloud before you go, as I've originally intended. Again, its brief due to lack of profound details; and Hendel's still analyzing the samples you supplied."

_Yup. Been wondering when he'd dive right back into the doom and gloom crap, _Zack almost groaned aloud. After everything else he's faced so far, Zack was almost positive he'd be prepared for whatever horrid portent Tseng was about to share. Still, he kept his wits about him anyways.

"From what Hendel managed to scratch up," Tseng opened up with. "I think its safe to say that the amount of Sephiroth's cells in both Zack and Cloud's respective bodies tell us he's never lost his interest in understanding Sephiroth's strength; nor his general resilience against J-Cells in general. And even though both were part of the same project, Cloud has significantly _far _more of these cells in his body than Zack does. Perhaps, even _**thrice **_as much."

The room was real quiet now; without a sign of interruption to be seen. Zack even felt that lump in his throat come back with a vengeance; the sensation restricting his breathing suddenly.

"Thanks to those packets retrieved from Nibelheim, the extensive research on Zack's blood and the baseline its established, alongside what can be glimpsed of Cloud's own samples thus far; Hendel believes that the project was to actually _replicate Sephiroth_ or his abilities in general in other individuals," Tseng went on in the driest, but most severe tone ever. "Another Copy project, like Genesis and Angeal."

"Wha- why would he do that...?" Zack pressed, certainly recalling Genesis' words back in Nibelheim five years ago. "And for that matter, how the heck did he even _succeed_? Last I checked, it shouldn't be possible for Hojo to do that!"

"No, but this is Hojo we're dealing with," Tseng shrugged. "That man's obsessive and rather fanatical desire to seek different truths other the ones everyone else has accepted has always driven him to heights deemed impossible by normal law. He isn't afraid to speak these truths either; once he knows he can back them and if he feels the timing is right. Considering his compulsive mannerisms, we can safely say Hojo's able to achieve through science in just a few, short years what Gast has spent his _entire _career searching for."

Tseng reclined in his chair, hands seated on his lap, "He always was too brilliant for his own good. And I suppose its to be expected: Its no secret he's been obsessed over the concept of Jenova cells and their effects in others after Sephiroth's birth. I suppose since he had access to so many 'research' materials after Nibelheim's burning, he was able create these Sephiroth duplicates successfully; seeing as the thing on the boat wasn't him."

This bomb-shell immediately curdled Zack's nerves; his fists balling at his sides and his heart leaping where its never gone before. "N-No," he stuttered. "You don't think... that the villagers... the Nibelheim citizens... Tifa's _dad _for fuck's sake-"

Vincent's burgundy eyes flashed; glittering almost malevolently within the gloomy lighting of the room. "The townsfolk-" he croaked out in that distinctive growl of his; the sound distorted by his own budding shock and fury. "Both dead, and alive-?"

Tseng's expression couldn't have been the better definition of granite-like; his gaze stonier than the subject in comparison. "Perhaps," he breathed, his tone lacking any inflection whatsoever. "-He transfigured all the bodies recovered into these duplicates we're seeing now; with the outstanding exception of Cloud and Zack. Zack's natural resilience and core training as SOLDIER gave him immunity from the worst of the project, but Cloud... I think it broke him somehow-"

Zack's armored fists _slammed _onto the desk; the object in question groaning noticeably and splitting in several places. His sapphire eyes were a rioting flare of azure flames, his shoulders squarer than a perfect picture frame. "Define... 'Broke'-" he growled, his teeth flashing underneath his respirator plate. He had to force himself to breathe; seeing as the task had become far too laborious for him to do unconsciously.

Tseng didn't flinch; as any other normal man would've done if they had a thoroughly infuriated six-foot-four-inch ex-SOLDIER towering over them whose fury became this highly corrosive, volatile, tangible thing that threatened to eat away at their very composure. Instead, Tseng merely coolly regarded the pissy, more imposing individual before him with calculated indifference; as per usual.

"We have reason to believe Cloud's current amnesia may be connected to it somehow; alongside his gargantuan boost in strength. Other than the normal effects of tame J-cells and mako energy granting him SOLDIER level endurance, these exponentially larger amounts of this foreign material in his untrained body may have already impacted him in more ways than we can physically see." Tseng drew in another slow breath, "However, we've yet to understand the full scope of these conjoined factors. It'll take time for Hendel to fully analyze them. Thankfully, we have your files and records to help us draw some comparisons."

"And you said we were 'failed' projects, right?" Zack quoted, trying to grasp the situation.

"Thankfully, yes. Although, I don't know how Cloud still came out of this without physically changing much beyond having enhanced strength," Tseng commented. He suddenly blinked, as if in light of an epiphany. "On second thought," he corrected himself, trying to find the most correct wording for it. "-Changing so _much _both mentally and physically speaking without actually physically transforming into another Sephiroth clone altogether like the rest of the villagers."

Zack felt it again; that seering, animistic, uncharacteristic _rage _boiling away within his tightening belly. It scoured his once healed nerves, his fists suddenly trembling as an effect of this. The roiling inferno of absolute _anger _and _**loathing **_at its most base was familiar; Zack having felt this back in Nibelheim after Vincent finished telling his story. Zack had shivered at the sheer weight of it then too; but then passed out right after.

Upon realizing this, Zack tried his best to get this rancid resentment under control; drawing himself away from Tseng and pacing around the front of his desk while counting breaths and willing his shaking to go away. He felt someone's hand on his back next, the motion familiar enough so he was able to identify it as Cissnei not seconds there-after.

She moved her hand in steady patterns; and one Zack was growing quite familiar with. This same pattern sapped away the pointed dregs of his bubbling rage; leaving a drained, shivering after-math. His flickering sight started to straighten out; his clenched belly releasing its vicious vice on his diaphragm. Breath finally came naturally; all the while Cissnei's expert touch found various places somewhere along his spine that helped him retrieve his scattered senses- not unlike the time he got sick on the ship.

He couldn't be more thankful, dammit.

He turned around and faced her, lowering his respirator enough to show his teeth as he smiled in humbled gratitude. "Thanks," he mumbled rather lowly, his timbre coarser than usual.

Cissnei nodded, eventually relinquishing her touch upon seeing this.

No one had said a thing this entire time, favoring instead to observe the exchange in mute reverie. Kunsel was certainly surprised; having known Zack to ventilate his frustrations through squats and not though uncontrolled bouts of shouting and breaking things. He'd never seen this change in him before; and its something he found _unnerving_, to say the least.

Tseng eventually went on, decidedly drawing the conversation to a close, "Alright. I believe we've talked long enough. As it is, I have nothing else to offer on Cloud, except to continue supervising him from afar." His hands relaxed their hold on the other, but not by much, "I believe you should've been long gone at this point. Its already late as it is."

"Late or not, I think we'll just get going," Cissnei shrugged. "There's a lot of ground to cover between here and AVALANCHE."

"Hm, true," Tseng dipped his head, relenting to the logic of that statement. "But keep in mind Cissnei, you're going to take the time to rest once in a while. Don't over-exert yourself like you did before we met in Gongaga. I don't want to have to lecture you about it again."

"...Yes sir."

"Good. Now then," he turned to Zack once more. "-Cissnei has your basic mission specs already prepared, and Kunsel and I have a rendezvous with some outside Turk members in the North and Rufus to deal with. You're to do _everything _Hendel and Cissnei says regarding the details of your health. As for changing mission parameters-" His flinty shards for eyes flashed minutely, "I trust you'll do a better job picking your battles?"

Zack nodded, feeling thoroughly chastised by now. "Yes mom, I'll play nice with the other kids," he sighed, rolling his eyes in the process.

Tseng once again was on his feet, hands migrating behind his back, "Hopefully, by the time I see you all next, Aerith will be safe and Hendel we'll have some medicine prepared for Cloud. And even if the former cannot be done, then the other will become available soon." He walked around his desk, stopping just a polite meter from Zack. He leveled him his straightest gaze, one hand lifting in brief hesitation. He considered his next move carefully, finally relenting and giving Zack a small rap on his chest to indicate his support of the future mission.

"I trust you'll make the right decision," he began again, his modulated monotone not without feeling this time around. "Don't do something we'd both regret. Alright?"

Zack's expression hardened, nodding assuredly and lifting his chin proudly next.

Tseng's next smile was a diminutive curl of stiff corners, but its fleeting existence betrayed his own inner sincerity in Zack's objective. He nodded, and then turned to Kunsel, "I trust you have everything?"

"Already loaded and ready to go," Kunsel gesticulated.

The Turk Head faced Cissnei and the rest again, "Well then, I suppose I'll see you all soon. I can only tell you to exercise the utmost caution; and to focus on AVALANCHE's movements in general. As for Hojo-" He turned towards Zack, "Once Freyra has him, I'll call you and the rest of your squad to come dispose of him after we've extracted what we needed. Practice using that new materia in the meantime- but don't go over-board with it."

"Noted."

Tseng turned towards Cissnei, this time resting a single hand on her shoulder and squeezing once. He spared no words, but whatever obscured message was hidden within this exchange was mutely understood. The girl even reached up and grasped Tseng's wrist in turn, her lips thin but her eyes a lit with fervent energy.

When he finally released her, Tseng watched as the group turned to leave; but not without Kunsel throwing in his last word.

"Hey Zack!" he shot out, ensnaring his friend's attention for that second. "You better come back alive, man! I fucking mean it!" He jabbed a furious finger at him once, "If I wind up hearing about how you got your stupid-ass killed trying to be a hero again, I'm going straight to Minerva herself and telling her to bring your stupid carcass back so I can kill ya again myself!"

Zack cackled at him in his usual way, one hand in a pocket and the other keeping a firm hold of his bags. He jerked his chin at him, "Don't be worrying about me. The only person that _should_ be worried is Hojo." He ducked his head, his smile still in place but transforming into an expression that's much more insidious than expected. His tone almost a crisp snarl, "He's the one who isn't coming out of this shit _**alive**_."

Vincent dipped his head at this, his bloody-gaze the very epitome of _cold _confidence.

And without another glance, the trio was in that elevator and gone; Zack's mind arrested on the invasive, perversely satisfying subject of wrapping Hojo's own disemboweled intestines around his scrawny, vein-riddled throat.

And what a lovely thought that was.

* * *

~777~

_**-Three days earlier-**_

It shouldn't be here.

It _couldn't _be here.

It couldn't possibly be here at all.

...And yet, here it was.

The initial approach to this place had been nothing but a monster-strewn _nightmare_. But, upon seeing the structures in the distance and taking in the fact that they're actually _there _and not some part of a delusional fever dream, it all struck Cloud and the rest with a sense of dubiety that paralyzed them. If anything, he and Tifa _both_ expected to find charred, wooden skeletons blanketed in mold; alongside browned, broken glass and crumbling shingles lying in disarray around long-shattered foundations. The path winding around the village and its square should've been an undiscerned wreck that blended seamlessly into the ever creeping tendrils of nature itself; buried beneath the detritus of a long-gone water tower.

But this was not the case: Instead, the group found an entire village; whole and as it should be _before _the purge. As if time has re-wound itself to the moments before the madness; to the calm and somewhat semi-somber days of Nibelheim's normal day-to-day life. They found a village, alive and inhabited; albeit not bustling with the utmost activity.

Barret, Yuffie, Cait Sith, Aerith, and Nanaki spared Cloud and Tifa dubious glances; only to find slack-jawed shock and rigid fear etched across the latters' faces. Both man and woman meandered in dazed circles around the base of the town's central water tower; completely at a loss for words. After a moment spent like this, finally they found their senses; and slowly the shock wore off.

"This... This is _insane_," Cloud grounded out, fists balling at his sides. His eyes flickered almost fearfully from one place to another, "There's gotta be some kinda bullshit mistake-!"

Tifa stopped just shy of the weird, two-story replica of _her house_; her cherry-wine gaze distant. "How can it-? I mean... the heat and the smell and the- I just don't understand," she murmured in sheer disbelief, her voice tapering off in this agonized and breathless sigh.

She jumped when she felt Cloud's hands clasp her forearms; his grip strong but containing just the slightest quaver. She was forced to stare him dead in the eyes as he said, "You saw it too."

"Huh-?"

"Tifa," his mild tenor faltered, his grip increasingly jittery. "Tell me you saw it too. Tell me you felt the same thing I did? You saw it too, right?"

The woman flapped her gums once, twice, and then clamped her mouth shut. She nodded, having never forgotten the ghastly sensation of Sephiroth's blood-caked blade gluttonously chew its way into her body. She never forgot the feel of her father's quivering hands as he tried feebly grasping onto life; nor the angry inferno cooking her bare flesh alive. She couldn't forget watching her entire life get blown away in a storm of glittering embers; the fires rising high as the Nibel mountains caging her in. The screaming wails of the dying and damned drowning out her common sense.

She couldn't _especially_ forget the searing brand of her aversion of all things Shinra score her heart in its aftermath; the night she believed herself alone in the world, upon waking up in a room under her master's care. When he wasn't there in the first moments of her awakening, Tifa had curled in upon herself and _balled_. She knew she'd lost more than just her home that day; and sometimes even _now _that painful prod of desolation nipped her heels as would any creeping predator.

Tifa passed Cloud her surest nod, knowing he needed the support more than ever right this second. She clasped his larger hands in turn, extracting them from her shoulders and holding both in the strongest and most reassuring way she knew. "I know," she murmured softly, but with no less the conviction. "I certainly never forgot. I could _never _forget what true Hell felt like that night."

Cloud's brittle composure sewn itself back in place almost _immediately _upon hearing this. His mako-charged stare hardened again, a solid wall slammed profoundly shut upon on his turbulent emotions. His mouth thinned, his gaze shifting to the roiling glare Tifa had grown familiar with- a stare she always found somewhat alien, in hind-sight.

"Okay," He breathed, in and out. He turned towards her house, and then his own right next door. "Right," he mouthed to himself. "I know this is gonna sound weird, but we need to check this out."

"I certainly don't refute that," Tifa whole-heartedly agreed.

Cloud passed her the faintest, but most secretive of smiles; thanking her with his eyes. As quickly as it happened, it was gone again; the man facing the others while not at all acknowledging their own disbelieving stares. With a command on his tongue, he said, "We're gonna start here, and then we're checking around; _thoroughly_. We're not leaving Nibelheim until we get some answers. Got that?"

"I thought we were chasing Sephiroth?" Barret half-heatedly groused, as Tifa expected. Not that taller man was disputing Cloud's order here; seeing as he was just as confused by this whole mess as Cloud and Tifa were.

"Well, he's taking the back-burner for now," The blond assured. "All things considered, this whole place being here is rubbin' me the wrong way. Both Tifa and I know what we saw-"

"What we felt," she gently but resolutely corrected; shuffling uncomfortably on her feet as she remembered the puckered scar that stretched from her lower belly to just underneath her collar-bone. The only person whose actually ever seen it had been herself and her master. Not another living soul in the world has seen it; not even Marlene, or Cloud for that matter.

Barret nodded again, raising his metal arm and balling it in a confident and supportive way. "Awright then," he turned towards the remainder of their group. "Guess we're taking a little detour."

"Not like we have much of a choice for that matter," Nanaki bespoke in a reserved manner. He lifted his nose towards the distant peaks of the Nibel mountain range; his one eye arrested on the tallest and most imposing of them all. "I believe the only way we can search for Sephiroth at this point is to abandon the buggy. It won't make it over the mountain; should he have actually headed North."

"He's right," Tifa confirmed grimly. "Mount Nibel's paths are too steep, narrow and unstable even if you're on _foot_. I can tell you from experience. Moreover, we're going to need to employ some stealth climbing it; as there's a lot of monsters on it we'll end up stumbling across."

Cloud nodded, "Right. In the meantime, we're gonna search around first and foremost. Then we'll worry about climbing the mountain."

His azure gaze switched to the hulking monstrosity itself, his shoulders squaring. Despite the confident way he usually carried himself however, it didn't take long for Tifa to see his hesitation- if his clenched fists were anything to go by. And frankly, she couldn't help feeling the same.

After-which, Tifa expressed her desire to explore their former homes first, with Cloud jumping right on the idea himself. The group was hesitant about this, but agreed to stay outside anyways. That said, Tifa approached her house first and tried the knob as any sane person would; finding it locked funnily enough. She considered slamming it open, but decided to merely knock instead. When still no one answered, she repeated the process; wondering why in all the nine layers of Holy Hell she was knocking on the door of her _own God damn house like she hadn't lived there before_.

To be _**really **_honest, she hadn't expected to get so freaking irrationally irritated when nothing continued to happen. Her nerves already felt like they've been dunked in liquid nitrogen; brittle as they were. She couldn't help wondering how Cloud felt too on that note. And after another minute of waiting without hearing any signs of anyone coming, Tifa eventually huffed out an exasperated breath and decided on the slightly less formal approach of _breaking and entering_; not giving two shits if somebody was inside for some horrible reason.

She wanted her damn answers; and no one was going to keep her out of her own child-hood home for crying out loud.

Tifa shocked Cloud when she randomly kicked in her own front door; the hinges not at all able to hold up to her innate might. The wooden barrier swung unceremoniously on the mechanisms of its own lock before collapsing in on itself; dropping with a rattling crash in the door-way. Cloud flapped his lips behind her, but chose not to say anything as he followed the martial artist inside with evident trepidation.

"Hello! Is anyone here?" Tifa called out.

Yuffie stuck her head in the frame next, biting on her lower lip nervously. "Tifa? is this really a good idea?" She hesitantly walked in, rotating about in place to take in the spacious interior, "I can't help thinkin' something fishy about this whole thing-"

Cloud rolled his eyes, "Naw... Well _obviously _nothing's wrong with our long-since burnt down home still bein' here despite fucking _Sephiroth himself _razing the fuck of it."

Yuffie flapped her lips at him, looking rather contrite and fidgeting with her nails after the bitter commentary. Cloud's following expression looked a little apologetic after that little sardonic quip though; the man taking in a long draught of air and shaking his head like he was frustrated with himself.

He knelt somewhat, his gaze a touch softer than it was before, "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to sound like such a dick. Its just-"

Yuffie was immediately her peppy self again, straightening her shoulders and throwing her hands on her hips. "Don't worry about it!" she blithely reciprocated. "I get it, dude. Being here is stressful enough, right? So don't sweat it. We'll get to the bottom of this yet! Or on second thought-" She pointed at the retreating form of Tifa; watching as the elder woman took the stairs to the upper floor. "More like the _top _of it! Hehe."

Cloud blinked off the cringey attempt at the joke, decidedly following his friend to the second story. He trailed uncertainly after her, his throat jumping along almost audibly. Once he reached the top of the stair-way though, he immediately took the left towards Tifa's room where he heard the most noise emanate.

"Tifa?"

Said woman didn't acknowledge him as he crept incrementally in; busy as she was rummaging around the largely unchanged room. She was seen turning over everything in sight; not giving a hot damn she was vandalizing or throwing around things that didn't belong. As far as she cared, these paltry items didn't belong _here_; in her former living space, in her room, in her old sanctuary for _Minerva's sake_.

What Tifa found when she'd initially come in here though, were visible signs of someone other than herself living here. Nibelheim had been a small town back then; made up of pretty much everyone who knew each other. Once Sephiroth killed almost all present, he killed more than just a few neighbors: He killed friends and friends of the family; he'd killed individuals who, although they usually kept their distance, who knew of the Lockharts and the details of their home. However, no one since Tifa's childhood friends and her father had seen her room; and haven't seen much of it even years before the burning itself.

So, you could say her final sanctuary was indeed the bed-room in her memories; and the only _living _person who'd know what to put which knick-knack where would be herself and maybe her master. As fate would have it, whoever recreated this living space didn't replicate the more intricate details of her room. Obviously, they _tried_; but they failed in the process. And that, for some reason or another, gave Tifa some kind of misplaced sense of satisfaction she couldn't hope to understand.

"I knew it," she breathed as she sensed Cloud stop behind her. She picked up a crummy duplicate of a stuffed plush of a Nibel Bear; a toy she never had in her child-hood. She turned it over, and then callously threw it over her shoulder like she has everything else. She stopped before the piano sitting near the bed, taking a moment to investigate the sheet music booklet itself. "I freakin' knew it," she murmured again.

"Uh... Tifa?" Cloud paused just shy of her, swapping his gaze between she and the paper booklet.

Tifa was seen shaking her head, having flipped through the packet and found that its indeed the wrong version of her old beginner's guide. After this observation, Tifa wound up searching the piano itself; finding that while its the right brand, the model was a little too new to be the one she grew up around. She even opened it up to inspect the wired keys on the inside; her mouth flopping open as she took in the incredulous sight of a plain piece of copy paper. She "Ah-Hah'd!" loudly enough to almost make Cloud jump.

Cloud watched as the woman reached in to snag it, folding his arms as he eyed Tifa's flurry of expressions flicker around as she read it next. And she wasted no time either; even going as far as to read it a few more times before he felt the need to speak up.

"Tifa, what is it?"

Her spacey gaze leveled to some point somewhere in front of her; as if her mind had finally wrapped itself around some elusive mystery that's evaded her for the better part of the last few years- which wasn't untrue, in hind-sight. She worked her jaw and then snapped it shut, turning to face Cloud and present him with the paper itself.

"You see this? This proves it," she said.

"Eh-? Proves... what, exactly?" He inquired as he took it.

"This whole place... its a cover-up by Shinra!" She folded her arms next, a trait she was slowly picking up from Cloud. "I can't say I'm surprised to see that though."

"No shit," Cloud spat, absorbing the letter's details. "They wouldn't want the public to know their best dog went rabid and burned an entire, innocent town down. Its bad for publicity."

Tifa took the somewhat old sheet back, eyeing what's no doubt her master's loopy chicken scratch. Contained within the sheet was the recitation of her master's endeavors to save Tifa's life after the burning; and his investigation into why the town was here at all. Apparently, he'd found most of his conclusions within the Shinra manor itself; and its a place Tifa wouldn't mind paying a visit next.

Tifa noticed Cloud's following expression; seeing him squint his eyes like the already low-lighting of this room was giving him some sort of migraine. He sighed, and then nodded with no other outward sign of this weakness, "Alright then. I guess this letter _does _prove it. We didn't jointly hallucinate that whole ordeal."

"No, we didn't," Tifa agreed. She then neatly folded the letter; stowing it away in one of her pockets next. _My master knows me well enough to leave it here. Of course._

He huffed next, scratching the back of his scruffy head in mild confusion, "I couldn't help wondering though... your master I mean. I wonder where he went?"

Tifa's hands folded behind her back, her head ducked as she weighed this conundrum. She'd _love _to find out what happened to the only other most important person left in her life; but by the sound of it, Zangan wasn't aging too gracefully nowadays. The letter had explicitly stated he could "barely jump anymore"; and it hinted he may have simply gotten an injury from his line of work, or age decided to finally smack him one for shits and giggles. Moreover, he never did say where he went after he and Tifa parted ways.

Tifa couldn't help feeling a little bad about that last part admittedly: Having just now recalled leaving her master's care for the seemingly short-sighted goal of avenging her home-town for AVALANCHE. Zangan had tried talking her out of it, but Tifa wouldn't have it. She ignored his last bit of wisdom, but it wasn't like they split ways on a bad note. If nothing else, Tifa had hugged her master goodbye, and then packed what little clothes, food, and gear she had and went to Midgar. She hasn't seen Zangan in about four and a half years now; and couldn't wondering when he got the time to back-track to Nibelheim to look into it.

_I can only hope he didn't do something he'd regret; like get caught by Shinra or something_, she internally wondered.

She jolted when she felt a gloved hand clasp her shoulder, locking eyes with Cloud's brighter pair. He spared her another weak smile, and then jerked his head, "Let's get out of here. If we stay here any longer, chances are Shinra will come after us- especially since we just technically broke into someone's house and destroyed half of their shit."

Tifa nodded, matching Cloud's more slight smirk with her own. She even giggled; much to his surprise, "Not like I care about some Shinra scum-bag pretender whose helping bury the company's dirtiest secrets by living here. What's a few broken dust-collectors to the lie he or she is helping fabricate?"

"Wow. I don't think I've ever seen you so readily agree to the idea of vandalism before, but I'm not bitchin' about it," Cloud snorted with humor.

"Oh please. We're AVALANCHE for Gaia's sake. Its not _that _surprising," Tifa giggled back.

Cloud kept his smile in place; but its the _tiny_, slightly timid one Tifa favored more than his ego-brimming, confidant scoff. Tifa preferred this one frankly; and couldn't help ducking her head again out of a random streak of shyness.

The two departed after-which; their next destination sitting just outside the town's main hub. And its a place Tifa had always longed to explore, but never could muster enough courage to do thoroughly. But with Cloud and the rest of her friends by her side, she found no sense of dogged, childish fear skulk about in her wake. Not at all.

Not anymore.

* * *

~777~

And while Tifa had managed to endure in a way he couldn't help but admire, Cloud still couldn't get over his own inner reservations.

This whole place screamed _WRONG _in every way, shape, color, and form: The blond even going as far as finding a _complete stranger living inside his own home_. After he and Tifa left her house, they checked into Cloud's right next door and found an old woman in the residence. What especially infuriated him was the fact that she claimed she'd lived there her entire life!

_If you're going to lie, then you're going to need to be a lot more convincing than THAT, _he inwardly snarled.

As it was, Tifa had been correct: The town was indeed a horrible, cruel, shallow mockery of Nibelheim. Even Aerith had said, "Its a memory, and that's all it is. Even though this town looks like the old Nibelheim, it doesn't mean it _is_." And frankly, Cloud couldn't help agreeing with the flower girl more.

Once they eventually made it the Shinra Manor though, Cloud felt the atmosphere take on a wholly unnerving tonal shift that's nearly enough to snap-freeze his own calm. Something about this place just felt eerily _familiar _in a way he didn't understand; and its not because this thing has been here since before everyone else's grandparents' were even born. After checking out the first floor and its adjacent rooms, he climbed the stairs to the second story, and then migrated around both wings with all his friends trailing behind. Cait Sith babbled terrified nonsense, while Nanaki sneezed every so often; the musty smell apparently irritating to his nose. Yuffie whimpered once in a while.

After thoroughly checking the left wing, they crept towards its opposite with empty hands but guarded hearts. The group split up and searched the neighboring rooms; only to find nothing out of the ordinary. The ancient guest rooms were all untouched; with the exception of the one that held the secret entrance to the basement below. After Cloud pointed this out, the group crowded around and watched the man open the passageway; his fingers expertly finding the catch along the side of the stone sliding door. In this sense, Cloud's memory hadn't failed him; despite even he being wary of how unreliable its been lately.

As soon as the crashing _BANG _of the door reached his ears though, another irritating ringing sang within him. The pitch increased in frequency until it drowned out all other sound; Cloud not noticing his comrades muttering comments about the basement door at all. It jumped around the inside of his noggin like its a resonance chamber; the ringing growing increasingly into a deafening, _screaming _frequency that actually made his eye-sight flicker. His migraine from earlier returned; and the siege on his senses began anew.

He shook it off not long after, but could feel someone's eyes upon him. He didn't know whose, but he didn't stop to ask. Instead, he lead the party down the wooden spiral; carefully picking their way down one by one.

_Just ignore it_, he wondered to himself. _You'll be fine. You're doing absolutely fine._

Cloud hit the bottom first, feeling a dreadful sense of tumult slam into him like someone dunked him in frigid ice water. He paused, but not long enough to continue blocking the way for everyone else.

"Eh, Cloud? Is everything all right, lad?" Cait inquired.

The aforementioned individual briefly tossed the cat a glance, and then shrugged off the comment with a gruff, "Yeah. Just getting nostalgic is all."

Tifa pulled out their little flash-light, shining it down the dank, likely-man made, carved cavern hall. Right next to her, the increasingly jittery Yuffie pulled nervously at her hands while tossing flighty glances at every nook and cranny all around. She whined once, but Aerith landed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, slowly pulling the smaller girl against herself in motherly affection.

"Don't worry," she murmured just to Yuffie. "If there was anything wrong or someone unwelcome already here, Nanaki would let us know. Right, Nanaki?"

"Hm. Of course," the scholarly animal acknowledged humbly, his flaming tail another torch for the group to utilize. He waved it around just enough to light the way, tossing all those behind him a confident smirk. "I can lead the way, if you wish."

Cloud pursed his lip, deciding not to argue point with a creature that had a natural light-source stuck to its body. He gesticulated, watching as the quadruped padded near silently down the hall.

It was both wide and fairly long too, but the hall wasn't as immense as they thought. Or at least, that's what Cloud thought at first: As he looked around, he and the others certainly caught sight of the various out-crops of rocks helping hold up the tunnel, and the doors with locks stuck on them. On one such instance, Barret tried one of them just to see if it'll open; but to no such luck. Even if it was Gods-know how old, it didn't yield even to his careless strength. Barret wound up grumbling something under his breath after this; likely being on the subject on his distaste for Shinra and their need for secrets.

The group branched into a couple of parties of two and one of three, checking around the hall and remaining within visual range of each other. Cloud loped the furthest away; his crystaline gaze locked upon the door at the very end of the cavern. Tifa stayed dutifully close by his side, her face a guarded wall of well-concealed thoughts.

Once they stopped before it, Cloud paused; his head doing that irritating ringing yet again. He tried blinking it off, but it rung at a frequency that couldn't be _more _disruptive. His hand hovered just above the knob, the man not realizing Tifa was tossing him concerned glances. Thankfully, it subsided before too long; not lasting quite as long as the first one did. He turned towards Tifa, catching her wine eyes lingering over his own.

Without saying a word, he merely got on with the program and opened the door; shoulder shoving it all the way ajar. The two then crept carefully in, but quickly found out that they didn't need Tifa's light as they noticed the glittering array of devices ranging from wires to coils pumping straight mako energy into a pair of gigantic tanks. Tifa shook her head, smacking her lips in distaste at the sight of it all.

"Tifa, ya mind giving that light to Aerith and Yuffie?" Cloud asked her. He jerked his head over his shoulder, indicating the pair staying near Nanaki. "I think they need it more."

"Huh? Oh. Alright," she reluctantly conceded, stepping gradually away from him.

She was giving him looks that Cloud could swear betrayed her reluctance to leave him alone for even a _second_, but still she thankfully stepped away. For some reason or another, Cloud had felt the intrusive desire to be alone; although its not to say his request was out of the question. To be honest, he felt better about Tifa hovering around Aerith and Yuffie anyways; seeing as she's fully capable of protecting them should something unsavory pop out of the darkness.

Or at least, that's what he told himself at the time.

Tifa slowly dipped out, but she kept the door wide open anyways. Cloud watched her vanish down the dreary cavern, and then took the moment to wander around the brightly illuminated madness that's a scientist's true lab. He absorbed the sight of the ominously stained metal table with actual steel braces lying at certain key points; the flickering lights on the black coils; and the brightly-lit mako pods large enough to hold a man even Barret's size. He glanced to the left and found the vast array of shelves stacked to the very last inch with books on every subject ever. Both sides of this hall, completely filled with a vast archive of knowledge likely gleaned from the suffering of others.

Overall, he knew it hadn't really changed since five years ago; give or take some new or updated equipment. _Which means Shinra's still using this place for something, _he quickly deduced as he approached a wooden table with some not-so-sensitive documents lying upon it. _But for what exactly?_

He suddenly heard steps; but the sound suggested someone with a heavier set of feet. Cloud turned to face whom he presumed was Barret, only to find the door to this room was _**closed**_. No one else had come in, no freak wind had blown it shut. No Tifa, Barret, or the others to be seen or heard.

At this point, Cloud couldn't help his creeping anxiety; briskly making it to door and jiggling the knocker vivaciously- only to find that its indeed _locked for some mysterious reason. _Cloud kept pulling on it; only vaguely aware of the sound of boots echo elsewhere within this very room. Confused and growing increasingly paranoid, he looked down the hall with the books stacked in it.

Only to find he wasn't as alone as he thought.

Cat-like in the gloom, energetic green orbs a lit with the charged pulse of mako energy ensnared his own. Framed only by shadows and spider-silk bangs, they caught the entirety of Cloud's bewitched gaze; keeping him trapped in place as the owner skulked into the glare of the mako tanks. Heavy, deliberate steps betrayed his size; his outline as immense and imposing as ever.

Sephiroth's acidic smile slipped easily and gradually across his angel-carved features; his very appearance sucking in almost all light around him as would a gaping black-hole.

Cloud was drawing the Buster sword quicker than thought; leveling the blade between himself and the former SOLDIER before him. Sephiroth remained unconcerned by the threat display though; instead choosing to keep both arms behind his back while lazily slinking into the more open space of the circular room. He had no sword for some reason; not that he needed his precious _Masamune _to be dangerous. He stopped just shy of the blade's reach, his chin lifting somewhat and his expression border-line neutral as he regarded the agitated individual before him.

Cloud was the first to speak between them, his blistering fury a palpable whirl that could scorch the hardest hearts; minus the taller man before him. "Sephiroth! What the fuck are you doing here?"

The aforementioned other merely blinked; the motion a deliberate and calculated twitch that belied his sense of self-control. When he spoke, his modulated cadence was a lone cello's symphony; the sound a plummy near-bass that reverberates in your bones- A sound that Cloud could never forget.

"...The same reason as you," he purred, his tone lower than usual. He leaned in conspiratorially, as if to breathe the world's most intimate secret just between the two of them, "To find the truth we've both shed so much blood over. The very thing that continues to elude not just us, but Shinra as well."

He turned away, still very much unconcerned for the sword barely inches from his bare chest. If nothing else, Sephiroth's stare lingered over the mako tanks, his expression darkening marginally. "And apparently, it eludes Hojo too- seeing as he's yet to shut this place down, even after discovering so _much_."

"Hojo?" Cloud'es eyes darted briefly to the tanks and table, and then immediately back onto Sephiroth. "You don't mean the Promised Land, do you?" he went on to ask, still keeping his choleric tone in place.

Sephiroth didn't reply immediately, choosing instead to glide over to the tanks. His slitted stare stayed locked onto the glass cylinders, his mouth losing its earlier smirk. "Not quite the answer I'm looking for, but I suppose that's part of it," he murmured. "You're not too far off the mark."

"Then... are you... you're not a fake or somethin', right?" Cloud wondered aloud, not at all sure he was actually _seeing _the thing in front of him as Sephiroth. For all he knew, it could've been another duplicate or something like the one that was on the freighter.

"I'm real enough," he added cryptically, tossing Cloud a brief glance over his pauldron. "-Real enough to _you_."

"The Hell do you mean by that?" the smaller man snarled.

Sephiroth didn't reply to this query; instead choosing to stare pensively into the tank as if it would yield the answers he's long sought for. He was as largely unmoving as a sentinel; statue-escue in the greenish tint coloring the room. His platinum silver hair reflected light as would the moon; the color somewhat vibrant despite the otherwise drab color palette around him.

"Its astounding," he eventually murmured. "-Just how foolish he is. His means to an end couldn't be more repugnant; and yet are admittedly and begrudgingly effective. I suppose that's why I've always _loathed _the man." He threw back his head, his proud shoulders slumping, "And I'd be remiss to not acknowledge that he isn't actually _on _to something." He turned back towards Cloud, his eyes a low flame in a slow-burn hearth. His next words were an insidious, sanguine tone that was more or less _felt _instead of heard, "-Not that its relative to you right now. Not yet anyways."

Cloud continued to hold his poise, but even a comfortable weight like the Buster sword was beginning to feel like it would inevitably drag him down. After a moment spent staring intimately into one another's equally mako-charged eyes though, Sephiroth's smile grew yet again; leaving Cloud to feel like the temperature in this room had just dropped to a chilling degree. He didn't know when it started to feel like this, but it still wasn't enough to banish the budding build of sweat on his temples and pits.

Just when and why the fuck did he feel so feverish _now_?

Sephiroth coolly regarded the bloom of weakness in the other, his stare as weighty as a behemoth's sheer mass. He kept his prey locked in perpetual paralysis with just his eyes alone; staying idle and only moving to blink or leer in mute satisfaction of something.

"Do you... remember anything?" he nearly whispered between them.

"Remember what?" Cloud spat angrily, baring his teeth as would a fearful dog in danger of getting kicked.

Sephiroth didn't chuckle, scoff, or even so much as make another sound: Even when he took the second to incrementally step towards his quarry, his boots didn't produce the echoing _clack _expected. "The falsehood you delude yourself with," he began in the lowest murmur ever. "You know the truth, and yet seek solace from its grip behind a veil of lies. You breathe your corrosive and twisted variations of 'truth' to even your closest familiars, unable to face the reality that trails behind."

He took another step.

"You can't stomach regret. You can't admit your sin to his loved one. You know it would just _**break**_ her if you did."

"What're you talking about?" Cloud inquired, suddenly realizing his usually steeled tenor was faltering into a near sputter.

"The girl," Sephiroth hummed. "Aerith, I believe it was?"

Why was the Buster sword's tip kissing the floor now?

The larger man was closer now; standing right by the Buster sword with no fear of its strike. "Her beloved boyfriend," he continued. "You know what happened to him."

"I don't know who he-"

Sephiroth tutted at him; interrupting Cloud's meek reply in the process, "You shouldn't tell anymore lies; for fear of losing yourself completely. Is that what you really want? To continue lying to poor Tifa?"

"I-I'm not..."

"But you are," he breathed, the sound almost an exasperated sigh. He rested a gloved hand on the blunt side of the Buster Sword, trailing his musicians digits across its length. "And you're lying to Aerith too. Just how pathetic can you be before it eventually eats you alive? Its bad enough your gross incompetence damned him."

"W-who..."

"_Zack Fair_," Sephiroth almost snapped; as if he didn't want to hear anymore of Cloud's childish whimpering. "You know very well who he is. You simply can't stand the fact that you're still in need of someone's guiding hand to help you plod along as you've been doing. Its grotesque really-"

Sephiroth did something strange; his next smile a flash of perfect teeth revealed in a grin he isn't known for displaying. The hand on the Buster sword kept the blade pinned to the floor; the man by now standing almost a mere breath or two away. Cloud was this pitiful, disgusting, new-born whelp beneath this larger, ever-looming, gunmetal black _nightmare_: Unable to do more than gulp down air and stare back into what he felt was his worst fears made tangible.

And it smelled just like blood intermingled with charred flesh and ash.

"Its no wonder," Sephiroth whispered almost huskily, his angelic features contorted by liquid shadows made distinguishable only by the light of his contaminated, oily gaze. "-That Tifa's own _father _didn't want you around her. You're only going to bring her down... just like you did _**Zack**_."

_BANG._

The grating _snap _of splintered wood and bent steel violently yanked Cloud out of his terrified daze; the debris whipping just past he and the larger being before him. He felt a shaking hand clamp onto his shoulder, twisting him around until he was eye-to-eye with Tifa Lockhart herself.

"Cloud! CLOUD! Can you hear me?" She hollered right in his face.

"H-huh? Wha-? I-" Cloud shook his head, unable to produce a coherent answer.

Tifa's expression hardened briefly, the woman giving Cloud a firm shake just to help him breach the murk of his mind. "Cloud, listen to me- Are you listening? Are you okay? Do you hear me?!"

"What... I... uh... yeah- NO!" Cloud's eyes snap-froze into furious shards as he whipped himself out of her grip. He turned, hefting the heavy tungsten blade high enough so to put it between himself and-

And the vast amount of _nothing _before him.

"What the-?" He darted frenetic glances around, unable to locate the subject of all of his qualms. He turned back towards Tifa, and then saw the others materialize behind her next. "I thought- uh..." he faltered, meeting the gaze of every individual he could call his friend.

Aerith's hands went to her breast, balling there in another show of her own apprehension. Barret was muttering under his breath, whilst Nanaki eyed Cloud with genuine concern. Cait Sith was scratching his fuzzy scalp in confusion, the large Mog mimicking the feline in turn.

Yuffie searched around the room, and then faced Cloud with a strange level of uncertainty he's never seen before. "Just who the heck were you talking to?" she borderline dead-panned. "And why did you have the door locked?"

"I... Did you not... Did you guys not see... _him_?" He feebly returned, trying his best to gain back his composure- to gain back control.

"See... who?" Tifa murmured in a somewhat terse but no less motherly tone. "I didn't see anything when I came in here."

"And I certainly don't smell anything else abnormal," Nanaki added.

"You didn't-?" He muttered, unable to wrap his head around the situation.

The Buster sword slipped free of Cloud's deadened grip; the profound clattering of the over-sized blade temporarily drowning out the thrumming drone of the machinery. Even in the lull that followed, the sounds of the machines couldn't quite reach Cloud's ears.

Only the silence was his answer.


	14. With Every trace

~777~

Cissnei kept her eyes focused on the path ahead; steering the helicopter over vast stretches of alternating land and sea as they slowly inched their way back west.

They already had more than half a day's distance between them and Midgar; setting them somewhere south of the Bone Village. They planned on stopping there briefly for a quick rest and fuel up; and then proceed unerringly towards Rocket Town- which was presumably AVALANCHE's next destination.

And even after so many hours sitting listless inside of this bobbing, claustrophobic prison of general rotor wash, screaming metal and shrieking gale, Zack hadn't deigned to say much throughout most of this trip- tired as he was from his new homework: The few times he did speak was to ask Cissnei if his use of their new materia was convincing; using Shape-Shift to contort his easily recognizable features into Kunsel's more average likeness. Since Kunsel's face was now officially Garm's in the records, it made sense to test their new materia in their long and enduring journey west. They had enough hours to themselves; _so might as well make smart use of the time_, Cissnei had figured.

Zack's first several attempts were unfinished failures: seeing as the shiny little rock in his hand had a tendency to draw on so _much _of his weakened stamina. He couldn't even hold the draw on his strength for that long; usually giving up on the transformation mid-way. Not only that, Tseng hadn't been joking when he said it tickled in an unpleasant way: Zack grunting and sputtering about how _weird _it felt after the first time. He even stopped using it at some intervals altogether; trying to get his breath and nerve back.

"Tseng made it look so _easy_," He'd bemoaned in an aggravated mutter.

He even handed Vincent the materia, telling him to give it a whirl just for shits and giggles- to which the elder man politely declined; albeit with a suspicious once-over of the innocent looking crystal.

_Even Vincent won't touch it_, Cissnei almost laughed, somehow finding something minutely humorous about his cat-like, flatter-than-usual expression.

By now, Zack was plainly tuckered out from his numerous endeavors. On occasion, he'd even nod off before jerking back to semi-wakefulness; with still not a word breathed from him. Hell, even Vincent had been more talkative; asking Cissnei some questions about the mission ahead.

Even another long while later, and now sobered to a point where he seemed more alert, Zack kept his reticence unbroken. His jaw was clenching however; and its a tic that naturally betrayed his apprehension. Some hour or so after waking from his most recent nap, he still hadn't deigned to speak. He should've been moaning childishly about needing to piss or getting on her nerves like usual simply to alleviate his boredom. This said, Cissnei couldn't help wondering if his mind truly was arrested on either Cloud or Aerith's well-being. Maybe both, for all she knew. For all she knew, he could be secretly nursing another headache that could blatantly ignore his pain meds.

Or perhaps, he's still considering ways of applying Tseng's recently proposed idea of using Sephiroth as a means of dealing with Aerith. To be honest, Cissnei herself had no idea how to properly help the flower girl until she figured how to deal with the after-math of said disappearance: Like telling Rufus there's no body to be retrieved, or telling Aerith she couldn't be around her friends so long as they're fighting Shinra. If Shinra caught sight of Aerith again after this plan, saying 'it just got complicated' wouldn't _remotely _do the situation any justice in terms of explanation.

So no. They couldn't enact upon this until every aspect of this scenario was tempered into an entirely fool-proof plan that would not only work, but _keep on _working until something is done with Shinra itself. That said, Cissnei wouldn't put it past Tseng to be considering ideas of abandoning the company in due time; upon recollection of his words about escaping should a fall-out _do_ happen.

_Wait, _she shook her head upon realizing this. _Tseng couldn't possibly want to go through with that, would he? Shinra is all he knows... and yet, I can't actually see him __**not **__doing this for the remaining Turks within the company-_

Cissnei felt her attention waver, her eyes flickering briefly to her lap instead of the dash and console. _Then again, _she pondered. _He's been doing all this because he wants to see not only Zack and Aerith safe, but the rest of us too. If the plans fails, he wouldn't let the repercussions of its effects reach us. He won't think twice about defecting should it really boil down to it... _

_And he knows we'd follow him without question._

Cissnei pursed her lip, her nose wrinkling as she shot her friend a concerned glance. If Zack had come down to these same conclusions as she did, it would explain his suddenly uncharacteristically quiet nature. If nothing else, his clenched jaw and glacial gaze certainly betrayed these similar assumptions.

Intrusively, her mind suddenly wandered briefly back to the embrace he gave her; an endearing gesture she no doubt appreciated; but couldn't help lingering over. When Zack had washed away any and all inflection from his face, approaching her with nothing but this blank and alien expression; she didn't know what to expect. Zack was impulsive; an unpredictable and immovable force with the strength to back up his every action, no matter how weak he was.

Yet even though he's the most trustworthy and honest person she knew, his more idealistic and impetuous traits still sometimes terrified her. Not always in a bad way admittedly, but Cissnei still couldn't help sometimes feeling at a disadvantage with Zack. In both a figurative and literal sense, she simply couldn't see eye-to-eye with him. Moreover, these same traits were what put him amidst these ill-fated situations in the first place.

There's that, and his blunt refusal to say 'yes' to alternatives. Once he had a path figured, he'd pave it with no qualms. Zack was an achiever; or he at least strived to be. And while that's usually a good and admirable trait within itself, its also unfortunately what put him here as well-

Like in the instance of Cloud and Aerith in question: Zack wanted his friends to be both safe _and _happy; not simply one or the other. At some point, Aerith was 'safe' while she lived in the slums; but she wasn't necessarily _happy_, per se. Content was probably the word that best described her quiet resignation to living a mundane life outside of relatively little Shinra interference. With the Turks constantly on her tail, Aerith had been safer than she'd be in most other places in some way.

But then Zack fell into her life and showed her just what it meant to be happy _while_ being safe. Zack's position in SOLDIER assured that Aerith wouldn't be abducted by the Turks; if it meant to keep Shinra in Zack's good graces. Aerith began to change as well; if for the better, emotionally speaking. And so for the two years after they've met, Aerith was certainly one of the lucky few in all of Midgar who got to be _both _of these trifles; safety and happiness hand-in-hand. Not just one or the other.

Cissnei shot Zack another glance; her expression suddenly reserved as she weighed the new dilemma forming before her. _Once Cloud and Aerith are safe from Shinra, _she figured. _You'd think he'd be okay with just that- but he won't be... Not so long as they express a desire to keep fighting Shinra. With Shinra's continued existence, Cloud and Aerith will never truly be content, safe, nor happy ever __**again**__. They'll duel Shinra in whatever capacity they could- them and the rest of AVALANCHE alike._

_And he'd probably join them in for the ride; ultimately throwing away whatever Tseng has laid out. But then again... Zack wouldn't do this, would he?_

_No. He wouldn't... maybe. But then..._

Cissnei huffed forlornly, somewhat frustrated at the various what-ifs in their future. Only now, in the present can they keep going; and its the kind of 'live in the moment' thing she just didn't understand. She always had a plan for herself; she and Tseng both. But Zack's survival had effectively blurred what the morrow presented.

Which was admittedly frustrating and emotionally exhausting for _her _especially. She'd never admit it aloud, but the future having no certainty frightened her. Its no wonder Zack was so impulsive- he had to 'wing it' a lot. And its something Cissnei didn't bother to correct him on. She followed him anyways, deciding to watch over him and counsel him if deemed necessary.

In the meantime, Aerith's continued and willful involvement in AVALANCHE only muddled their affairs. Cissnei contemplated this in reserved silence, but the aggravation was there; simmering away just below the surface.

_Eventually, _she wondered. _Zack will be forced to choose whether to imprison Aerith away from Shinra's sights to keep her safe, or to let her go to let her fight them another day. Aerith may not be a fighter, but she's still with AVALANCHE for a __**reason**__. Its not like she's going to be told to stay out of danger just because Zack managed to safely drag her out of Rufus's sight._

_-No. It won't be so easy. Zack will probably throw his life away trying to do this. _Cissnei frowned, _Hendel wasn't wrong though when he told me Zack has almost no regard for his own-being. He's not suicidal, but... the thing he's looking for isn't really something that can be achieved now, is it? _

_...After all, he nearly died just trying to keep Cloud 'safe'..._

The girl hung her head, and then recalled the conversation she had with the reclusive doctor before Tseng's last meeting. She frowned even more deeply, her nose wrinkling as she considered Hendel's words.

_"Its not behavior that should be encouraged," he'd said at the time. "If you can get him to realize just how valuable his life means to __**himself**__; let alone to his loved ones, that'll be one hell of a milestone. I'd treat it myself, but he'd connect better if it wasn't with someone whose dressed in a scientist's uniform- with someone who spends a lot of time around him." His expression noticeably hardened then, "-With someone he trusts more readily."_

_The girl lowered the document of papers in hand, having surveyed the latest test results for Zack's blood-work and psyche eval. Its troubling to see him doing no better, but at least he wasn't exactly thankfully worse off. "...Don't tell me you're adding 'Martyr Complex' to his extensive list of problems?" she inquired in a brittle manner._

_"Oh nonononono NO!" Hendel immediately waved off. "In fact, I don't think he's someone who'll ever let himself fall to that point. He's reckless to a fault, but he's not a nutty head-case with a death wish. Still-" Hendel folded his arms, "...Considering the huge amount of problems he's been faced with throughout this year ever since his escape from Nibelheim, I can't say he isn't... well."_

_He huffed, "-Setting out to do what he's done has had negative effects on his mental well-being, in some way or another. In fact, he already qualifies for more than __**half **__of the symptoms for Anxiety Disorder: complete with a history to help start it." His gaze softened but retained its worried quality, "He tries working off his stresses through action; and while that's not bad, he may wind up doing it in a way that may endanger him further. That's what you gotta watch out for-"_

_He lifted a single finger, hazel eyes flashing, "His impulsive nature clashing against his sense of concern is a corrosive mix. No thanks to what happened in Nibelheim, Hojo, months of constant fear and paranoia from his run with Cloud; and from what you told me about his behavior in general- I believe its safe to say he __**definitely **__has an anxiety disorder of some kind."_

"_Oh..." Cissnei sighed, thinking about all the horrible things he'd do to himself just to safe-guard Aerith and the rest._

_Hendel closed his eyes, his arms keeping their folded position, "You'd be surprised how many people in Shinra develop this condition. In all honesty, I'm not shocked to see it in Zack after enduring so many negative environmental, emotional, and conflicting factors all at once- plus Tseng's plan to help Cloud and Aerith." He sighed, "A lot of SOLDIER go through mental conditioning to guard them against the weight of their own actions; as Turks do. It doesn't always work though, as __**you **__should know."_

_Cissnei said nothing to that, choosing instead to thin her lips and put on her best mask._

_Hendel eyed her himself, as if looking any signs of distress within her as he usually did with Zack. He mashed his lips petulantly, but decided to let whatever he's considering fly by. "By the sounds of it, Cloud __**may **__have it too-" Hendel continued uncertainly, suddenly choosing that moment to scratch nervously at the area on his arm where he applied his caffeine patches. "-But I won't know for sure unless I __**physically **__met him or got some kind of observational footage. If you can get anything like that, it'll be immensely helpful." _

_He tossed a glance at some papers sitting on another table nearby, "According to what Zack supplied from his last encounter with him, it seems Cloud's current amnesia is self-inflicted." He watched Cissnei's expression flicker in surprise before going on, "He may have deliberately made himself forget Zack on purpose to cope with his perceived notion of Zack's death. Having said that, I still can't be entirely certain if its really all Hojo's doing __**entirely**__." He shrugged, "There could be a lot of factors that contributed to this, but I won't know for certain unless I see Cloud's current behavior. Know what I mean?"_

_Cissnei hummed, folding her own arms in matched consternation._

_Hendel then smiled marginally, but its a paltry motion, "In the meantime, keep an eye on Zack: I already gave him instructions on what to do with himself. Just make sure he takes EVERYTHING I gave him. He'll be okay if you keep doing what you've been doing. His physical faculties aside."_

"_Noted."_

Cissnei only shook her head though, sighing a little more loudly than intended. She certainly didn't expect this to finally catch her friend's attention; who actually jerked out of his own pensive trance. He threw Cissnei a glance, cocking his head and folding his arms over his chest.

"Heya... Sis?" he gently prodded.

"...Hm?"

Well this was surprising: she hadn't expected a simple huff would actually be enough to stir him out of that murky funk of his. She shot him a side-long glance, watching him work his jaw a few times. His cerulean stare was a glass window into his inner reservations; his mussed bangs doing nothing to obstruct her view of his visible consternation.

He hesitated; as if reluctant to ask whatever the heck's been on his mind for the last hour or two. And then, after another moment spent sizing up the woman next to him, he relocated his pensive gaze back onto the open skies before them. "Hey, uh... I've been wonderin'," he said rather lowly, raising a hand to scratch sheepishly at the back of his now perpetually scruffy bed-head. Its usually a sign of either his embarrassment or his rampant curiosity to ask a question he's likely going to regret.

Upon taking note of this tic, Cissnei relaxed a bit; finding a strange comfort in seeing him act more himself from just this brief exchange. She smiled patiently, "You should know by now that I won't bite. You're completely free to ask whatever's been bothering you for the last while."

"Oh... you noticed that, huh?"

"Zack, you're not exactly known for being the quiet, thoughtful type," she amicably informed him. "To be _really _honest, I'm surprised you didn't ask about the mission parameters by now."

Zack smirked wanly; but it was gone immediately after. He shrugged, "Yeah well, I think I figured those out by now."

"Huh. Is that right?"

He passed her a more familiar and cock-sure grin there, "We're super-vising AVALANCHE from afar not just for the opportunity to help Aerith and Cloud, but because Reno and Rude are busy doing something else for Tseng. Elena's probably on the same assignment with them seeing as she's on the fairly new side, and she still needs some guidance from the more experienced Turks before runnin' a solo gig of her own."

"...Great deduction," Cissnei was earnestly surprised at that. "You're absolutely right."

"Nailed it."

Cissnei smirked next, "But that's not all of it, you know."

Zack huffed, raising a brow at her. "What else could we be doing besides baby-sitting?"

"You mean spying?"

"_Guarding_," Zack corrected, his tone almost bereaved. "-Helpful observation from afar."

"...Whatever floats your boat," She snirked. "At any rate, we've been given another assignment by Hendel himself," she then informed him, watching from the corner of her peripherals as Zack jolted in mild surprise. "The doc wanted us to not only survey Cloud, but get some _surveillance _in turn. He wants to visually inspect Cloud himself for any other signs of ailment other than what you told him."

"Like I said, helpful observation!" He chuckled. He then added on with a shrug, "Nice to know the doc's taking my words seriously."

"Of course he does," Cissnei tossed at him. "Hendel's always concerned for his clients. Even though he's never actually seen Cloud, it still doesn't mean he doesn't care."

"He's such a nervous worry-wart," He smirked.

The girl sighed, "Its why he couldn't stay in the R&D department: He showed too much sympathy for Hojo's subjects; and it supposedly interfered with the latter's 'research'." Cissnei felt her expression darken next, "After Hendel was given a firm warning about his behavior and what's expected of him, he threw his lab coat at them and promptly quit."

The ex-SOLDIER's brows slapped his vibrant orbs, his shoulders tensed, "But wait... if he were one of Hojo's 'helpers', wouldn't that mean his resignation wasn't really a... well... yunno." He snorted, "-An option? Like, wouldn't he know too much just for them to let him go?"

Cissnei's next smile was one of her more unfeeling ones, "Tseng was given the order to 'silence' him. But as with what he did with you and Kunsel, he merely integrated Hendel into a niche where he can hide perfectly. Sierra, our female doctor, even helped give Hendel a 'face-lift' after that."

"Holy shit," Zack muttered. "Ya mean she changed his appearance _that _much?"

Cissnei's expression lightened there, "Yup. Hendel used to have a sallower, skinnier face with more defined cheekbones. He also had a lighter complexion and thicker hair; and he had _green _eyes to boot. I think he even changed his nose and lips, but its been a while since I last saw the picture myself." The girl then passed him one of her more coy smiles, "That said, when Tseng first signed you on for Garm's role, Hendel and Sierra deliberated on doing something similar to your face, but Tseng talked them out of it."

Zack haughtily harrumphed and jabbed a thumb at himself, "Good! 'Cuz this face is TOO DAMN SMOKIN' for them to be messing with it! I don't want _anyone _breaking my damn sexy smolder!"

"Great Minerva," Cissnei rolled her eyes. "I always knew you were full of yourself, but its worse than I thought."

Zack blew yet another rasberry at her, sticking his nose in the air. He even playfully waggled his eye-brows, grinning in the most annoyingly cocky way he could.

"So," the Turk girl went on, decidedly switching topics before she gave the man the satisfaction of knowing he successfully humored and charmed her (inwardly of course). "-If its not the main mission that's been bothering you, then what is? You were quiet for so long that I was starting to think your condi-"

She couldn't even finish the sentence before he's jabbing another rather accusatory, and more pronounced finger at her in a furious motion. This shocked her into silence admittedly. "Don't say it," He immediately cut her off, his earlier expression already long-forgotten. "Don't even whisper _that _word. And for the record-" He threw up his hands, "I'm fine. I'm just tired and junk... Among other things."

_So the word 'condition' is officially taboo. Nice to know._

"Huh. 'Other' things?" she mutually tried instead.

Zack shook his head, his expression switching back to reserved. "Well... Its a buncha things really. If I had to list it all off, we'd probably be sitting here talking about it until we got to Rocket town." He shrugged, "One of those things aren't really anything particularly relevant to the job... and its kinda sorta maybe on the personal side too. I was sittin' here wonderin' if I should just save it for when we land instead."

The Turk girl briefly passed Vincent a glance in the back-seat, noticing his gloomy gaze glint curiously at her. He wordlessly shook his head, shrugged, and turned to lie in the seat; seat-belts be damned. The elder man then threw his arms under his head and shut his eyes, as if trying to block them out. He even propped a leg onto the seat; still carefully keeping his sabaton-clad shoes off of the upholstery as best as he could.

Cissnei swapped her focus back onto the controls, shifting the stick in a more northerly direction. She then hummed, "Define 'personal'."

This is where she sensed Zack's rather tangible disquiet; as it seemed to emanate from him in waves. His arms kept their folded position too; indicating his unease despite Cissnei's welcoming invitation to the query not a moment ago. "The thing is," he started, his face just the slightest shade darker for Minerva knows what reason. "-I've been kinda thinking about _you _more specifically-"

Cissnei tossed him a confused glance, raising a skeptical eye-brow for good measure.

Zack swiped a hand through his bangs and brushed them back; suddenly scratching and fluffing his hair like he much rather just clam up in breathless frustration. Instead, he went on with, "...Man. There's really no pretty way to ask, huh? _Ugh..._" He threw his head back on the seat, and then slowly passed her a more timid, but no less level stare. He sighed again, and then, "...I wanted to ask you about your life before the Turks, before Shinra, before _all _of it- But I wasn't sure if you'd welcome the question or even feel like I'm probing too much. I mean, you know enough about me and my life and what I have staked in it... I wouldn't put it past you to know more about me then you let on."

Cissnei chose to not react to that slightly loaded but no less true statement.

Zack merely went on though, deciding not to press it thankfully. "-But sometimes," he sighed. "I can't help wondering what lead you into the Turks in the first place. Yunno? Like, how you met Tseng or why you're so loyal to Shinra even though I know you're a smart enough person to know just how freakin' scummy they are. That's the thing I don't get... What did they do to get your loyalty? Is it _really _just for the Turks? And with all we've been doing lately, doesn't it not go against what you joined them for in the first place?"

"...Is _that _what you've been pondering about this whole time?" Cissnei blinked, feeling almost utterly flabbergasted by this development. Inwardly, she couldn't help wanting to laugh at how ridiculous this turn in the conversation was; finding a misplaced humor in Zack's genial but genuine intrigue.

Zack however bobbed an affirmative, his expression a little bashful, "Yeah... That and how the heck we're gonna pull this whole 'save Aerith' thing off, on the side."

"I figured," Cissnei mildly reciprocated.

"-You wanna know what else?" he waved a hand here, "I ended up remembering what Vince said in Nibelheim; when he asked the question "Were you anyone before you became Cissnei?" I couldn't help wondering about that for the longest time until we met up with Tseng in Gongaga." He frowned here, "And then I weighed your answer to that... Didn't it go somewhere along the lines of... 'I was no one before them'?"

_Ahhh. He's figuring __**that **__out now, is he?_

He sighed, "And then, how you uh... what we 'talked' about before Tseng sent us out..."

_You mean my reaction towards that hug? _Cissnei eyed him, seeing where he was coming from after all this.

The ex-SOLDIER propped a hand on the bird's door, briefly staring out the glass as the trio headed further inland towards the Bone Village. His crystaline eyes flashed to her again, "I ended up thinking about how long it took me to get into SOLDIER, and then wondered how long it takes for Turks to get integrated; training aside. You were like, six-teen or something when we first met, right?"

"...Yes?" _Where the heck is he going with this? Is he fishing for something else? _Cissnei pondered as she kept switching her gaze between the skies and her friend.

"...So uh, how long _does _it take to become a Turk?" Zack asked.

"It depends," the girl reciprocated thoughtfully. "But the general estimate usually ranges between five or so years. Training at an early age isn't out of the question; even encouraged in some cases depending on the specialization."

"...That's what I thought," Zack mumbled. Cissnei watched as he pulled a leg over the other, stretching his limbs out across the chair's rest. "But then that means you would've been a freakin' _kid _when you first joined... And yet... you were a full-fledged Turk for _how _long by then?"

The girl couldn't help the narrowing of her eyes. She shot Zack another suspicious glance, carefully selecting her words while not being overly specific. "A few years," was her reply to that. "Where are you going with this?" she eventually pressed.

Zack passed her an equally neutral stare that gave Cissnei no ability to read it whatsoever- a trait that sometimes bugged her. He clenched his jaw once again, but then relaxed it as he shrugged like 'the jig is up'. He sighed, "-You said you were raised inside Shinra, and I couldn't help wondering if family is the reason why you joined in the first place. But... that couldn't be the case."

He folded his arms and cocked his head, "The impression you left me was that either you don't seem to have any attachment to family in general, or you just don't talk to them at _all_. I even wondered if you just don't interact with 'em for the same reasons as I do now, but then I ended up remembering how loyal you are to Tseng and the rest of the Turk division..." He inclined his head, his expression darkening, "If your folks were under threat for any reason, I wouldn't imagine you would've held back when we met outside Nibelheim after my escape. Friendship be damned if your loved ones are in trouble."

Cissnei's expression matched his, her gaze locked almost unerringly onto his own despite her task of guiding the helicopter to their destination.

"-So then, I figured you don't have any folks in Shinra after all," Zack continued on thoughtfully. "And then I wondered why you care about the Turks so much... and then weighing in how young you coulda been when you first joined, and what Vince said in Nibelheim..." His expression was rather brittle, like he was horrified at something but was keeping a relatively cool head anyway, "So, when you said you were raised inside Shinra, you _literally _meant it: Like, as in the Turks raised you _themselves _since you were a kid with no family-"

"-I believe the correct term you're skirting around is 'An orphan with no other place to go'," Cissnei quite easily and rather neutrally interjected.

Zack flapped his jaw a few times, but then clamped it shut. His colorless lips thinned in a rather Tseng-like way, his gaze strained.

The girl merely huffed, feeling her shoulders sag with the movement, "Well well. I knew you would've figured that out in due time. And before you ask-" She jabbed a quick finger at him, "-No, Zack. Its not a subject I find upsetting. Its merely irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Its never been brought up for that reason."

Zack snorted in a way that betrayed his disbelief in that last statement's validity, "More like you didn't want to say because you're afraid I'd be upset about it."

"And are you _not_ upset about that?" Cissnei coyly queried.

Zack dramatically threw his arms around as if to gesticulate the wrongness of everything around him, "Well fucking _YEAH _I find everything wrong with that! How am I _not _supposed to?"

"Then all you did is just prove me right," Cissnei shrugged.

The man leaned towards her, slapping his hands on armored knees. "Sis, I dunno about you, but I'm find the whole idea of Shinra taking a little kid and shoving them into a training program revolving around espionage, spy-work, and assassination is fucking _horrifying _in general," his eyes hardened considerably. "And you're acting like its an everyday thing..."

_If only you knew how common that is._

The Turk girl flipped Vincent a backwards glance, noticing his profound lack of input here. She surmised having an important figure and well-accomplished scientist like Dr. Valentine for a father had desensitized Vincent in turn- who could've easily showed interest in joining Shinra quite early on in his own life because of his father. For all they knew, he could've signed on at the same age _she _did.

Either that, he was actually _asleep _in the back-seat; despite Zack's near-yelling.

...And with further scrutiny, Cissnei couldn't help thinking the _latter_.

When Zack saw Cissnei's attention on the man behind them, he couldn't help passing the other a glance too; only to jolt in surprise. After a few seconds spent absorbing this, Zack shook his head in mild humor; and then returned his attention to his female compatriot.

"Okay, look," He began resignedly, his tone noticeably lower than before. "I personally have no beef with the Turks... eh, _anymore_. You guys are pretty okay in my books." His smile came and went there, "-But what I'm having trouble with is wrapping my mind around the whole induction of children into an emotionally-draining, stressful, and rather morally questionable job like that being deemed as 'okay'."

"You say that, but weren't you just thirteen years old when you joined SOLDIER?" Cissnei pointed out.

Zack held up both hands as in mock surrender before jabbing a furious thumb at himself, "First of all, I didn't actually join them until few years _later_. I spent the first two or three years working my way through the ranks in the Security Sect and boot training program before seeing _any _action until fifteen-ish. And even then, I wasn't allowed to officially sign on until sixteen; when the firsts started picking apprentices. Secondly-" He jabbed a sharp finger at her this time, his teeth somewhat bared, "That's got nuthin' to do with what I'm asking _you_."

The girl went to flip some switches, her attention arrested briefly onto piloting the helicopter safely. "Then, what are you asking me? You already figured out I have no known family, and I'm fine where I am right now. You even asked me about my background and technically got it without much input from me." Her tone was rather salty here, "So what is it that you're _actually _asking me?"

Zack noted the casual air she was treating this with, still finding it rather hard to grasp it himself. Eventually, he slumped back in his seat with an agitated air; his every exhale steadily draining his earlier vigor from him. "Its just," he somewhat trailed off, as if trying to pick up his scattered feelings. "-I'm just having a hard time figuring out why a smart kid would want to join Shinra- _especially_ someone I find to be a damn good friend whose morals don't seem to be entirely fucked up."

His eyes were gentle here, an expression Cissnei was more familiar with. The girl couldn't help smirking at the last comment though, the motion somewhat bitter as it was sincere.

"...Well, you don't have to be morally just to be a good friend," she informed him. She caught Zack's eyes evenly with her own amber pair; if for a fleeting moment before swapping her attention back to the dash and its meters. "You say _you're _having a hard time thinking about what I've done as a Turk; calling me a good person despite knowing I've done things that would make most people my enemies- and would still be to this day, if I hadn't killed them."

The way she said that had been so natural; so casual that the other couldn't help jerking in reflex. To be frank though, Cissnei had done that on purpose just to emphasize how much of a not-so-kind person she was back then- even as a child.

She deliberately avoided locking eyes with him there, "Now don't let this go to your head, but you _yourself _are a good-hearted person with strict codes of conduct and a genuine sense of honor; a man whose always desired to be legitimate hero. And yet, you were tasked with the job of killing whom-ever Shinra doesn't like- whether its other former SOLDIERs, innocent bystanders, or nosy busy-bodies. You're someone whose not supposed to consider his foes people so much as targets that needed to be _eradicated_\- and its a job that's just as dark as Turk work sometimes. In some ways, both jobs are remarkably similar." She shrugged next, "You stayed on though, despite learning what the job entailed. That said, I think its fair to say you baffle me for the same reasons I baffle you."

Zack flapped his mouth at her a few times, his lips doing that strained, Tseng-like thinning motion again. He bobbed his shoulders in a resigned way, "Yeah well... I only signed on because I thought I'd be helping people; not the opposite."

"And that's what separates us, ultimately," Cissnei enlightened him. "I signed on despite _**knowing**_ I'd eventually hurt others. I still have no qualms about it sometimes; although its not to say I don't feel _anything _towards what I do." She shot her friend another encouraging smile, "You however, you joined because you wanted to protect those around you. If nothing else, if I know you like I think I do, I believe you only stayed in Shinra after a certain point so you can guide the newer recruits and keep them on the narrow-"

And then her smiled turned playful, "-And because you knew your position as one of Shinra's top-ranking SOLDIERs was capable of keeping Aerith safe in some part. They didn't want to incite any reason for betrayal in you should Aerith have disappeared one day- and they left her alone for quite some time because of you. Can't say it didn't work, at least."

Zack's comical display of sheepish embarrassment couldn't have been more endearing; his face suddenly redder than a bull wyerd's back-side. He huffed in a way that's supposed to be a chuckle, but the sound fell short. He smirked though; his grin somewhat cocky upon hearing this.

"As for your earlier questions," she went on. "You just wanted to know the details of my life, right? Or is there something _else _you're asking about that I'm just not getting?"

Zack waved it off, "I only wanted to know more about you in general. That's all."

"Hm."

The man bobbed his shoulders casually, "See, I always found it funny that you seem to know so much about me, but I don't know _anything _about you beyond your association with Shinra. Like-" He folded his arms again, the gesture sometimes a sign of his pensive reverie besides unease, "I know you as a Turk and a friend. But sometimes, I really do feel like I don't know you that well at _all_. You _never _talk about yourself, and you're usually wearing your work face almost every time we talked back when I was still in SOLDIER. Only until recently when I joined the Septimus Sect did I feel like I was finally getting some bits and pieces of you somewhere; but I still felt like I'm at a disadvantage with you. Yunno?"

Cissnei couldn't help smiling a bit more tentatively here; finding it rather humorous that his own feelings were mutual. She passed him another glance, "...Well, how about this: When we stop at the next hotel, I can tell you how Tseng and I met and why I joined the Turks. Despite what you think, I willingly made the choice to join them; despite being so young. Its not like Shinra abducted me and dumped me into their training program against my will."

Zack's expression was visibly hopeful here, "Really? Like, you don't mind? At all?"

The Turk bobbed her shoulders, "Sure. If you wanna hear that kind of thing."

He giddily pumped his arms, his vivacious energy back in place. He spared her his most charming and excited grin, as if sincerely _elated _that Cissnei would so voluntarily comply with the request. The somewhat endearing gesture was certainly enough to bring a smaller variant of his own smile in her; the girl keeping her gaze forward while trying to keep the rest of her expression schooled- Not that it actually works whenever she's around Zack.

Just then, her phone pinged; arresting the pair's attentions onto its position as it lit up in her pocket. Cissnei whipped it out and passed it to him, unable to text and drive the helicopter at once. "Check it for me," she told him.

Zack nodded and unlocked it, settling back in his seat rather primly. His eyes darted rapidly down the screen, the man suddenly jolting violently forward like someone just sucker-punched him in the solar-plexus. His expression bordered on _alarmed _as his jaw clenched, his shoulders squared like he's expecting a fight.

Cissnei noted these changes in him, feeling her gut sink at whatever the likely grim message was about. "What's it say?" she pressed.

Zack's usually mellow timbre came out mechanical, his voice tight as he said, "From Cait Sith: Nine thirty-three AM. 'Just left cellular dead-zone surrounding Nibelheim and mountain range. Making way slowly towards Rocket Town on foot. Had to ditch buggy before climb up Mount Nibel the previous day. Couldn't get messages out until now'."

His tone sharpened marginally, "Nine-thirty-four AM: 'Cloud's behavior is under question. While we investigated town the prior day, Cloud's initial reaction to seeing the town whole was mildly troublesome, but expected. He sought confirmation with Tifa; as in genuine disbelief of what he experienced then and now. Him breaking composure is note-worthy, but he calmed down and led the group as always. Continuing to monitor'."

Zack's eyes narrowed, "'Nine-thirty-' fuck it, I'm not reading the time." He huffed and went on, "-'We headed into Shinra Manor. Before heading into the basement, Cloud showed signs of ailment: shaking his head and squinting like he's fighting off another migraine. Seen proof of headaches in his belongings too: Basic over-the-counter medicine meant to fight headaches and migraines'. Tifa 's seeing signs of distress in him as well."

The man's voice fell a little lower, "-'He usually hides this behavior; but seems either unaware or deliberately negligent of its outward effect now. We searched through basement next: AVALANCHE interested in finding out why the town was still here. However, upon discovery of Hojo's main lab, Cloud sent Tifa away'."

Cissnei was completely invested in this now; her gut tightening up as she listened.

"-'Cloud did something particularly odd'," Zack read off, his expression terrified. "-'He _locked himself inside lab and started talking to himself. _He didn't seem to hear us _**yelling **_at him to open the door either; Tifa had to break it down to get us in. What little I picked up was mostly disjointed babbling that trailed off. Had no sense in it. Managed to catch the words 'Sephiroth' and 'Promised Land' only once'."

Zack then concluded it with, "-'Once we've broken in, Cloud hardly reacted towards our appearance initially. He behaved as if a tangible threat was in lab; keeping his sword raised and asking us if we saw anything. We told him no, and his resulting shock was almost tangible. When questioned further, he only shook his head and said "Forget it. Let's just get out of here." Aerith said asking anything about his behavior makes him shut out familiars and to not inquire further. Continuing to monitor. Also, expected arrival time in Rocket town later today or early tomorrow'."

Once he finished, Zack leveled Cissnei this mixed disaster of fear, varying levels of shock, and steeled determination that warred across his rigid features. His jaw tightened further, eyes frozen walls that ensnared her own worried gaze.

"Forward all of those messages to Hendel," Cissnei suddenly ordered him. "He's going to need this information for later."

"Right."

Just as he did that, they heard a thoughtful grunt emanate from the back; inclining both their heads until they glimpsed Vincent. The man, who was previously assumed to be asleep was now in a sitting position; both arms resting on his legs and his blood-colored eyes flashing with undiscerned emotion. Eventually, the elder man murmured, "I'm not against the idea of stopping to rest, but it seems we may have to pick up the pace. Any disagreement there?"

Zack clenched his fist, his expression steeled, "You ain't gettin' a 'no' outta me. But still-" He focused onto Cissnei, "I'd understand if you're too tired to keep pressing on. Driving tired is just as bad as driving drunk after all..."

The girl shook her head, "Don't worry about me so much. I did say we needed to fuel up in the Bone Village before continuing, didn't I?"

Zack frowned at her, "What about resting? You gave Tseng your word-"

Cissnei nodded, "Then I guess I'll nap a bit. But after that, we're hurrying on to Rocket Town. Cloud's behavior is already concerning enough."

"I get the part where we have to be there ASAP, but what're we even gonna do upon arrival?" Zack gesticulated. "-We were told to watch them from afar, right? And frankly, isn't Cait Sith already doin' that-?"

"Yeah," Cissnei nodded. "But we have orders to act accordingly if something goes amiss. After all, we're Aerith's bodyguards first and foremost; and we've always been allowed certain liberties should her life be endangered. If some conditions are met, we're allowed to interfere."

Zack blinked at her, confused. "Elaborate," he mechanically inquired.

"Think of it this way," Cissnei complied. "If Cloud had a fit in the middle of battle, and in a particularly bad spot where his friends somehow couldn't intervene, we'd be able to act in his and Aerith's defense on the fly. Moreover, if Cloud's behavior continues to worsen throughout time, we'll have absolutely no choice but to detain him and take him back to Midgar for direct treatment-"

"I'm sorry, but _WHAT_?" Zack hollered.

Cissnei shifted the stick a bit as she went on, "Hendel explicitly informed me that if we ever felt that Cloud's life is genuinely compromised as a result of Hojo's unpredictable and likely dangerous experimentation, we're to take him directly to the doc _immediately_. If we explain this to Aerith, I sure she won't argue with Tseng's reasoning for it."

"What about the others?" Vincent himself queried. "Won't they be even more suspicious of us and even Zack's existence if we say or do too much? In fact, wouldn't they try to _stop _us?"

Zack was likely picturing getting his bullocks thoroughly smashed in by Tifa's angry fists; if his suddenly hilarious and petrified expression was anything to go by. Of all people he wouldn't want to go toe-toe with, its likely Cloud's bestie he had the most qualms about- and not the man with the gun-arm or the weird crimson cat-thing with three-inch talons on two sets of Wutian-platter sized paws. Honestly, Cissnei almost wanted to laugh at that, but she refrained from doing so.

"That's a risk we'll have to take," Cissnei sighed, decidedly looking rather dejected by the possibility of confronting Cloud's infuriated companions. "We can't let the risk of exposure take precedence over risk of death. Saving their lives comes _first_. Besides, Project Septimus is all about understanding the lie and twisting it to our own truth: Along side us helping in whatever way we could all the while carefully acting within the parameters of Shinra conduct without incurring suspicion. Right, Zack?" she smiled.

Zack's expression transformed into that confident, contagious grin that always emboldened the people around him; the gesture making Cissnei smile in turn. It still had a hint of wariness within it; but it was out-shone by his enthusiasm at being able to take a slightly more active role. "Abso-freaking-lutely!" he agreed rather boisterously.

"Keep in mind," Cissnei added warningly, not wishing to shoot down this energetic reception of their orders. "-If we truly do have to capture Cloud and come into conflict with him and his friends, Tseng said we _MUST _employ Vincent's abilities as well as your Chronos materia. I have some stronger darts in a satchel with the rest of our belongings too," she jerked her head in inclination. "Alternatively, I'd think we could explain ourselves to them in order to avoid a fight, but we'll see what happens when we cross that bridge."

Zack whuffed, blowing some loose strands of his increasingly messy hair out of his face. He then dragged a hand through his bangs and brushed them back in exasperated resignation, "You don't need to remind me to stay outta direct combat: I already know. Hendel's already given me an earful as it is."

"Good," she continued. "So, we'll stop only to nap, fuel up, and take piss breaks in the meantime. I have food stashed in the back that we can eat on the fly. Beyond that, we're going straight to Rocket town. Any other questions?"

"None from me!"

"...Nor I."

Cissnei nodded to both men, happy to have them along for the ride no less. She then guided the vehicle towards the Bone Village, knowing they needed to refuel before they could attempt to cross the sea in earnest. She knew she was already getting pretty tired, but as usual she shrugged it off in favor of their mission. After all, they'll have their rest once she finished crossing the sea in another few hours.

_I guess our mission just got a little more complicated, _she inwardly wondered.

* * *

~777~

_...Because fucking __**complicated**__ couldn't even begin to properly describe it_, Cloud couldn't help wondering.

There he lie, tangled amidst the tall grasses and a twisted bundle of cloth meant to be his blanket; well enough away from the group and its campfire to indicate his unwillingness to banter forth with any of them that night. Or the last few nights in general, thank you very much.

After having put the borders of Nibel ridge and sparse plains behind them, the group managed to find themselves merely half-a-day's walk from Rocket Town. They were so _close_, but they'd ultimately tired out after all the fighting and brisk walking they've been doing. There hadn't been _any _towns betwixt here and Nibelheim to rest in- Not _one _single soul and their lodging to see.

And really, who in their right mind would even _want_ to live so closely to dragon-and-mako-charged-beast infested territory that's the supposedly haunted Nibel mountain range? At the very least, Rocket Town was sure to be both inviting as it was exciting; after the vast amount of _nothing_ AVALANCHE had been through.

As for Cloud, he couldn't help feeling more and more like an outsider than ever; despite being on the level that's usually deemed 'friendly' with them all. Oh sure, Tifa had tried time and time again to include him into their conversations and get him to open up for the past couple of days. And while its not something he usually shrugged off, he hadn't exactly been all in the mood to indulge her. She hadn't pestered him nor badgered him about it, but he still wasn't sure how to approach the very topic that everyone here has been staring at him for:

Its as if he's gone clinically mad and announced his undying love for Sephiroth or something- Because that's the very thing he just didn't, or couldn't, understand- _Sephiroth_, to be exact. And whether or not his 'meeting' with this realistic albeit imaginary figure truly meant if Cloud was legitimately losing his grip with reality.

His connection to Sephiroth was also the one thing that separated him from the rest of AVALANCHE; with the exception of Tifa: The two shared in their loathing for him; and obsessed over the idea of finding him and tearing him a new breathing hole right up his back-end. Tifa perfectly understood why Cloud had so strongly insisted on pursuit; she didn't find it weird or strange. Sephiroth's tangible presence, his legacy, his very words- his overall _impact _on Cloud and Tifa's day-to-day- The two had always felt a little disconnected from the others _because_ of their link to him. While Shinra had always been their enemy, the nature of Nibelheim's destruction was still remarkably different from Barret's home-town getting destroyed; or Yuffie's home in Wutai during the war.

Truly, that larger-than-life figure still had quite the influence on them; _especially _on Cloud in particular: And its been that way ever since Cloud had left for SOLDIER when he was still growing up. Even if Sephiroth stood at the opposite end of the spectrum nowadays, his prestige still drove Cloud forward. Whether its his hatred, or his long-lost admiration for him- still Cloud's life revolved around _Sephiroth in particular_. And while its a with a vengeance Barret and the rest understood, the line was drawn when Cloud had _hallucinated _his mysterious encounter.

_"Like fucking Hell Spikes!" Barret had screamed some hours after their departure from the unnervingly quiet village. "I know huntin' that schmuck is important to you and Tifa an' all; and I __**get **__that. But ya can't be letting him get under your skin like dat. Its too damn __**unhealthy**__."_

_"Says the dick-wad who thinks destroying public property and endangering countless innocent bystanders with mad explosives is good and dandy," Cloud snarled at him, not knowing why he felt so offensive all of a sudden. _

_His fragile nerves where over-charged with an electric, roaring energy he couldn't describe; the blond suddenly feeling for stirring __up __quite the conflict. He couldn't help wondering if his tour of Nibelheim and Sephiroth's appearance had wired him this way; with a kind of burn that soured and scorched anything and everything around him. He'd be damned if he didn't work it out though; so fighting Barret seemed like a good enough idea to get it channeling._

_That's what he told himself at the time, anyway._

_"A damn jar-head like you shouldn't be telling me what's good for my 'health'," Cloud went on. "Your own hatred for Shinra has brought us more than our own fair share of problems as it is."_

_Barret, as expected, immediately bristled and loomed over him; his brown eyes alive with a pulse that's almost SOLDIER-escue. "Oh, so __**now **__ya care?" He thundered, his shoulders squaring. "Last I checked, I coulda swore you where innit just for da damn money! Fuggin' hypocrite."_

_"Guys," Tifa was immediately between them, her expression wary but knowing. "...Please. This isn't the-"_

_Cloud and Barret continuously met the other head-on, their gazes strangely intimate as they glared over Tifa's head. They'd forgotten that they were still trying to climb over Mount Nibel; not at all giving a hot damn if they woke a sleeping dragon or some other mutant monstrosity hiding nearby._

_"You don't even have the __**right **__to call me that," the shorter man irritably bit, crossing his arms over his chest in the process. He didn't try veering around Tifa, yet. His expression visibly darkened, "-Back in Midgar, you we're the one flouncing about Shinra terf with an ugly-enough mug any retarded moron can recognize and report. Your shit-scented beef with the big-wigs would've eventually __**killed **__you- and endanger Marlene in the process." Cloud spat at the ground beside them, eyes a fierce glow in the perpetual gloom of the mountain haze. "-'Unhealthy' my ass," he sneered._

_Tifa's expression pallored considerably, Yuffie heard going "Oh shiiii-" nearby like a child that's watching the other play-ground kids having a row at each other. Aerith's hands had flown to her lips in the meantime, while Red narrowed his brows at the deliberate jab._

_Barret's gravelly growl practically vibrated the earth beneath them, his immense chest bellowing like a vast gale caught in towering sails as a seering anger surged through him. However, despite being deliberately goaded into this fight, he didn't yell or insult the blond as expected. Instead, he let out a great whoosh of air that lifted the scraggly strands atop both Cloud and Tifa's skulls; meandering in place like he's physically working out his great rage. He had a rather strong resemblance to a Gongaga grizzly bear pacing its cage._

_"You're still missin' the damn point!" he eventually blustered, his reply initially stumping Cloud. The latter had half-expected Barret to yell something in relation to defending his aforementioned daughter and his actions to 'protect' her. And yes, fighting Shinra with a daughter in tow was a reasonably questionable act within itself- but Cloud knew he shouldn't be dragging around the name just to simply get a rise out of him. Its a low move; and Cloud inwardly wanted to take it back suddenly._

_**But its too little, too late now.**_

_"...What I'mma tryin' to tell you," Barret cautiously imputed, his voice somewhat brittle. He huffed pretty loudly next, throwing his flesh hand to his temple as if to quell the budding headache there, "-Is that mebbe we shouldn't be goin' after Sephiroth anymore as it is- Its just not doin' any of us any good. Yunno?" _

_"You mean just stop chasing Sephiroth overall? __**Completely?**__" Cloud acidly clarified, not even trying to hide his brimming frustration._

_Barret gestured noncommittally, "That's about all we can do, ain't it? I mean, if we find him, we find him. But if we don't, it can't be helped." The bigger man then jerked his head, "With all this fuckin' runnin' around we've been doin', circling the entire continent trying to chase a damn loony even Shinra can't catch-" He began, pacing around in place. "I can't help feelin' its all for nuthin'. I mean, lookit the facts: All we've been doing is wasting our time, chasing somebody whose about as elusive as a damn dream." He then furiously jabbed an accusatory pointer finger at him, "And now its fuckin' __**literal **__for you!"_

_Cloud's glare merely deepened in animosity, but he dared not rise to the bait at that moment. Not yet. _

_"And now," Barret proceeded, his usually rebellious tone uncharacteristically modulated, reasonable. He threw out both arms as if to motion to everyone at present, "All we know is that he's headed North some-fuck-where; and we don't even know when and where and why __**exactly**__... not to mention how we can even __**get **__there. Its vague as Hell; and we won't be finding him with this little information." He swiped his flesh arm here, "No way, no how."_

_"Then what the Hell do you suggest we do? We've already started climbing Mount fucking NIGHTMARE-" Cloud gesticulated, feeling Tifa's hand rest on his chest but not really taking much notice of it. "Its a little late to be ordering us to turn around and march us off this damn rock!"_

_Barret was about to reply, but Tifa sharply cut in-between them here. "How about we discuss this when we actually reach the other side, instead?" she darted frantic glances between them, but most lingered over Cloud's countenance in general. "And in __**quieter **__tones, please?" she added in a smaller voice._

_"Tifa, tell me you're hearing the same thing I'm hearin'?" Cloud immediately rounded on her, albeit in a slightly softer tone. "You don't want to give up chasing Sephiroth either, do you?"_

_The woman sighed, her cherry wine eyes a distance that yawned widely between them. Seeing this only instilled cold dread into Cloud; his gut suddenly leaden as he weighed her ponderous gaze. "I... I dunno what to think," She lowly mouthed. "All I know is that, while I'd be happy to get him back for what he's done, the act hasn't really done __**us **__any favors now, is it?" _

_Tifa gestured at the entire group as Barret had; as if in mute reminder of the fact that they technically had no quarrel with Sephiroth. Really, the only ones who'd ever been wronged by him were __**exclusively **__Cloud and Tifa. _

_"I want to get him as much as you do," she murmured even lower, her eyes falling to the ground between them. Her toe began to gouge a new hole next; indicating her innate unease, "But now I'm starting to wonder if we're __**ever **__going to catch Sephiroth at all. Its not like Barret's in the wrong here..."_

_Barret nodded stoutly, with a harrumph following up._

_Cloud felt his earlier excitement suddenly, viciously, __**brutally**__ sluice out of him as if Tifa herself had taken a flaming dagger across his jugular. It both burned and bleed; wild and inane and untempered; escaping him as easily as breath leaves a fresh cadaver. He felt hollower; unable to say anything to support their earlier goal in searching for Sephiroth._

_And its because he knew they were right, at the time._

This said, Cloud couldn't help his beleaguered sigh and rolled onto his back; eyes peering relentlessly through the broken tree canopy. Gods above, he knew he'd been acting like a real prick recently, and that's why he hadn't tried striking up any other convos with his only remaining 'friends' in the whole wide world. He'd been ashamed, and confused, and angry at _himself_ for it. And again, Tifa had tried reasoning with him; but Cloud just didn't posses the gumption to reply in earnest. He just couldn't bring himself to meet her gentle gaze as it is.

He could apologize yes, but he didn't know where to begin; and how to go about it without sounding like a dick. Its bad enough he_ still_ felt really guilty about dragging his comrades about half-way around the world for a revenge fetch-quest that had nothing to do with Shinra in particular; especially since they'd never asked for it but they've never complained about it anyway. They were good like that, and they all deserved better- even assholes like _Barret _for crying out loud.

_C'mon. I need to man up here, _he told himself. _I gotta get it together first._

On the side, Cloud couldn't help his rampant distractions either; his mind idle in its funk and his emotions a conflicting whirl of smeared sensations that couldn't be distinguished. Seeing as Sephiroth himself was no longer the main reason for their travels, Cloud had decided on quietly following AVALANCHE along their continued goal to destroy Shinra. As Barret said; if they ran into Sephiroth along the way (which seemed quite likely), he and Tifa can properly bury him once and for all. But until then, they'd have to make due with Rufus and his goons.

Without warning, he was suddenly weighing Sephiroth's intrusive words back in the basement; wondering if they were more important in some way after all that's been said and done:

The mere mention of this _Zack Fair _and its increasingly familiar resonance thrummed throughout Cloud's skull with a high-pitched frequency that irritated him with new migraines every day now too. From Aerith's first mentioning him some weeks ago, to conveniently meeting Zack's _freaking parents themselves _back in Gongaga just a day after; to Sephiroth's cryptic comments in turn- whether or not Sephiroth had been real or imagined didn't matter in this equation.

Because really, even if Sephiroth had been some wild, abstract personification of Cloud's more deeply rooted doubts, then why did it too know Zack, but _Cloud himself consciously still didn't? _Why would some hallucination throw Zack's name at him like its the most important subject in all the world? Why would he even connect Sephiroth to Zack for that matter? Was Zack's non-existent link to them more of a lead than Cloud's own pursuit of Sephiroth?

Literally, the increased prevalence in which Cloud had heard the name had only continued to befuddle and annoy him too; like some grandiose shadow striving to eclipse him in a major shroud that stole away his fragile confidence. When Zack's name escaped the lips of either Aerith or Tifa (and yes, he's heard Tifa _herself _mention it quite a few times now), you can _**bet **_its thoroughly peeved him in some mysterious way.

That, and _terrify _him in a way he just couldn't quite explain.

Like seriously; why the bloody hell would such an ordinary name like _Zack Fair _frighten him? And, given Cloud even did remotely know _anything _of him aside, why would he bury it within his inner psyche anyway? Did this Zack and his fear-inducing name have any real connection to his five-year hole in his memory? Was this Zack Fair the reason why he had the Buster Sword, as Aerith had earlier suspected?

Its weird enough Cloud had known the sword's true name as Zack had despite claiming not knowing the man; and thus it couldn't be dismissed as coincidence. That, and the fact that the blade was a custom-forged weapon with an apparent _identity_. Aerith had claimed that Zack inherited it from his teacher in-turn some time ago; and the weapon had some notoriety in its distinct appearance.

_The Turks... _Cloud suddenly wondered, feeling himself frown increasingly. _They'd certainly know what and where this blade's been, right? They would've gone after me in earnest much earlier on if I'd been as well-known as any other decent SOLDIER too, __**right**__? Shinra doesn't tolerate deserters. And seeing as Zack had apparently dated Aerith, they'd know who he was and if he's the original owner of the Buster sword. They'd even came after Zack earlier this year too. That's what his parents said..._

_...So then... why didn't they ever come after __**me**__? And why do I have Zack's sword? How come I don't remember anything? I can't even remember my own __**age **__for fuck's sake!_

Cloud suddenly blinked; his sight blurring around the edges. He felt strangely and emotionally fragile within his ruminations; wondering why in all the world he'd felt the building of tears with no apparent reason for their said intrusion. He dragged a slow hand across his eyes and found that he was indeed _crying_; although for how long had eluded him.

The tears were silent specters that merely came and went as would a long-forgotten dream that fizzled away in the morning. He inspected their glistening appearance in distant reverie, feeling like a stranger watching his own body from afar. He turned his bare hand around, unable to formulate a coherent reasoning for these tears. He didn't feel _anything_ for the act within itself; although all of his current throes rested upon the importance of Zack's name and his identity.

_...Why? Why do I feel like this-? _He pondered as he finished drying away the evidence of his distress. He pursed his lip in frustrated wonder, _Why does Zack's name bother me so damn much? Why does it make me feel so-_

_**GUILTY.**_

He threw his arm over his head in an miserable and half-hearted attempt to tangibly push away the distracting flurry of sorrow and confusion; the fire-light twinkling at the corner of his peripherals. Light gave him headaches now too, apparently; and its _especially _irritating during the hottest, brightest part of the afternoon. Sometimes, even Nanaki's flickering tail-light bothered him if he stared at it too long. And to make things worse, his headaches only continued to persist and worsen more and more. He knew the others had noticed as well; seeing as Tifa had been asking if he's okay with increased frequency for the past few days.

Funnily enough, he used to never have an issue with bright lights. He figured himself generally and painfully _average _in terms of health before he went to join SOLDIER. He had no physical problems that he recalled carrying with him; although he knew he'd never been very eloquent at socializing. In fact, he distinctly remembered starting fights with the other kids back in Nibelheim. Again, no weird and mysterious infirmities other than his emotional ones.

Cloud cracked his eyes, sighing again for the millionth time that night as he eyed the darkened blades of grass and his bottle of water lying innocuously beside him. The play of color and light within the plastic and its contents were a distorted parody of his own thoughts, and its an observation that made him huff humorlessly:

The oranges and yellows tangled and twirled around each other in playful glee; an intangible echo of the vibrantly colored fire that couldn't burn like the real thing. The imperfect reflection of it was indeed present, but it could never actually influence the water in any way. Pure water never had color of its own; it merely reflected and distorted shapes while somehow maintaining its clear, featureless quality. If one was to look up to its surface from the bottom, the world would only appear distorted and shapeless and dark; seemingly far enough way so you wouldn't feel tempted to breach its surface.

_Not when you have an anchor tied to your feet, dragging you deeper down still._

That said, Cloud easily pictured himself lying at the bottom at the darkest pit of ocean; all of his answers lying somewhere just beyond the surface. He couldn't hope to see through a shimmering veil of shifting distortion that evaded all definition; the fluctuating bouts of darkness and light playing and pulling at each other ceaselessly. He couldn't swim up to catch his breath; he couldn't even find his correct orientation in the water for crying out loud. How the Hell was he supposed to get his answers when he couldn't even control how fast he was _sinking_?

The man, at this point, was so drained from all of his mental wanderings that his eyes sealed shut in fatigued ceremony; his mind a screeching spiral of sensations that refused to slow. He huffed a few more times, his earlier tears physically gone but leaving a ghostly trail that could still be felt. The path said tears had carved into his skin seared and burned like an iron brand.

_When was the last time I actually had a good cry anyway? _Cloud suddenly and randomly wondered. _Was it back in Nibelheim five years ago? For my mother? I didn't even shed a tear when Sector Seven came down... _

_Yeah. That sounds just about right. It __**was **__for my mom. Or when Tifa got that cut from Sephiroth. I cried then too, didn't I? _He speculatively pursed his lip again, his chest heavier than usual. _But then... Surely, it really hasn't been __**that **__long, has it-? And why would I do this when I started thinking about Zack anyway? I don't even know him-_

_But then again..._

Cloud balled his fist and let it drop to his chest, eyes still roving the skies above. _Maybe I did-? _He wondered. _I wouldn't have reacted that way otherwise, right? So then... __I did know him, didn't I?_

_..._

It was _**there**_. There again THERE again.

Every time he had his little doubts, or his answers, it would appear; more irritating and frustrating than the last.

...Static. Static screeching and humming and the gods-twice damned _RINGING._

_**Oh no.**_

_**No no no. Your mother's death wasn't the last reason for your tears, **_bespoke a voice Cloud couldn't immediately recognize. _**And you know it. **_

The ringing. The ringing _again_. The sound that warred with sanity.

That same, irritating, _buzzing _song that trumpeted around his mind.

That dazzled him, that cut him, that confused and disoriented and angered him all at once.

All without warning nor pretense, Cloud was suddenly rolling over in copious amounts of pain as his head banged like smashing a war-drum with a sledge-hammer. He hissed through his teeth; consciously trying to do his best to make as little noise as possible. He didn't need to be waking up his friends and frightening them with yet another reason to worry about his health.

_No. Especially **not** Tifa. She can't __**see**__. She can't be allowed to see._

_She __**can't**__..._

Cloud had tried ignoring it every time it happened; because honestly, he experienced episodes like this more often then he cared to admit. You could even consider this was a regular occurrence nowadays. He never told anyone about it though, even though his friends could see visible evidence of the ringing when it left searing migraines in its place that kept Cloud's brows pinched for hours afterwards. That said, Cloud knew he wasn't going to have a very good rest tonight after it passed. It would persist _long_ afterward; an aftermath that left his eyes watering for some hour or so beyond the initial spike.

_I'm fine. _

_I'm fine. _

_...I'm fine. I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm __**fine**__._

_**I'll be fine. **_

_It'll pass. It'll pass, like always._

_And then sleep._

_It'll pass, and I'll be able to rest._

_It's fine, __**I'll **__be fine._

Cloud gritted his teeth hard enough to grind and flatten tips; not knowing he'd sat up at some point. He groaned, half tempted to just up and leave their campsite entirely so to avoid accidentally waking the others.

And then, just as quickly as it appeared, the blaring resonance dancing frantic loops around his mushy noggin finally relented; if somewhat. It gradually lessened, more and more so as a minute or two passed by. This said, Cloud couldn't help his leaping bout of belated relief as the shrieking static faded to faint muttering and eventual silence.

_...Okay. Okay. __See? You're fine. Its going away already. Not so bad today._

_..._

_Actually, that's... Really fast. __**Super **__fast._

_Huh. That's a bit unusual, but I'm not gonna complain._

Cloud blearily blinked off his irritating stupor, feeling his hands slip from his head and flop lifelessly to his lap. He heaved a few times, glad that there wasn't any frustrating migraines settling where the ringing had been. "Its gone," he mouthed, the statement more a rhetorical query than anything. "...All gone."

"...What is?"

Cloud was _IMMEDIATELY _on his feet then; his body a blur as he rose and put up his dukes in reflex. He couldn't even find his Buster sword at first; half dizzy with fright and fatigue and confusion as he was.

And then, he took in a calming breath as he met Aerith's luminous gaze; her emerald eyes a flare of ghostly light illuminated by their campfire. She tilted her head sweetly, fluffy bangs an airy wisp that perfectly curled and framed her creamy countenance. Awake and alert as she was, Cloud couldn't help wondering if she'd seen his fit- Which seemed quite likely; all things considered.

"Uh..." he floundered for words, feeling some weakness creep back into his knees. Slowly, Cloud sunk back to his blanket in an silent heap, his right hand flying to his head. "Great Gaia's flaming pits... Aerith, how long have you been awake-?"

The woman's every motion always seemed too ethereal; unearthly and not... _mortal_ in some way. Its a kind of possibly innate elegance that always low-key weirded him out. When she blinked, its a slow draw of the fluttery curtains of lashes that would enamor and entrance most men- _including the stoutest SOLDIER_, Cloud realized as he recalled the girl's connection to Zack. Although to be frank, Aerith being stupid pretty isn't something she can help.

She yawned, and then, "Hm, long enough. I heard you sighing for the past while as it is. Like you were thinking _super hard _and you were bothered by something-?"

"...Ah. So you noticed that?"

"Yup."

"And uh, my headache's gone cuz you healed me, right?"

"Yes."

"And... now you'll probably be awake for a short while yourself, right?"

"Also yes."

"...Look, I... I... I didn't... I mean- I'm sorry if I woke you-"

Aerith rapidly shook her head, "Don't worry about it, and especially don't apologize for something you can't help." She shrugged her shoulders at him, "Its been bothering you for the past while, hasn't it?"

Cloud dipped his head and glanced away, unable to reply initially. He didn't confirm nor deny her underlying query; knowing Aerith's senses of fore-sight was probably giving the girl all the answer she needed. For all he knew, his exhausted and weary exterior was probably obvious enough.

Despite the lack of reply, Aerith then inquired, "You're not gonna tell me something along the lines of 'Don't tell Tifa', are you?"

"...If you don't mind-?" he mumbled. "She has enough to worry about."

The woman scrutinized Cloud intensely; her brow daintily slipping to her eyes. She certainly looked like she was hard-core weighing the pros and cons of telling her best friend of her other best friend's throes; her expression hardening marginally more and more every second. She straightened herself up in the sleeping bag, the campfire kindling a fierce light within her dubious gaze.

"Maybe I won't," she eventually settled for. "-But you _should_. And really, Tifa already knows you get painful migraines. She told me its something she's known since even Midgar." She huffed here, "Although, its never seemed so intense before."

"They were a nuisance at best," Cloud admitted lowly. "Nothing more. And frankly, moaning about stupid little headaches after all the shit we go through is pretty freakin' ridiculous anyways."

Aerith blinked at him and shrugged, "From what I've seen, your headaches don't seem so 'regular'; and not necessarily something you _could _keep hidden when we live and travel the way we do. We're a small group, and we're going to notice."

Cloud flapped his lips soundlessly, knowing that she was indeed right in that regard.

"If nothing else," she went on in a lower voice than before, "You keeping silent about it is just as concerning as the migraines themselves. Maybe even more so if you feel like you have to keep it a secret from _Tifa _of all people." She shook her head there, "Tifa's your longest standing friend and confidant, isn't she? That fact that you seem to think its okay to block her out of every facet of your life isn't something one can take lightly. She, nor I for that matter, can help you get better if you won't say anything." Her expression took on a more sincere quality, "Keep in mind, I can help you recover quickly and more easily if you just _ask. _Okay?"

Cloud hummed noncommittally, his shoulders slumping as he realized that he had been an idiot in more than just one way.

"...Okay then," she eventually went on. "I gonna go take a quick leak. I'll be right back." She briefly glanced at Tifa, obviously debating on whether or not to wake her up. Instead, she let out a cursory sigh and got to her feet. "Seeing as we're not in Nibel territory anymore," she began again, now digging around for their shared necessities bag for their toilet paper roll. "-I don't think I'll wake Tifa for the escort. I still have my materia on me anyway."

Cloud nodded, deciding to rest his eyes on his knees.

"...If you want to talk," Aerith suddenly blurted, her tone an inflection that briefly reminded Cloud of the times his mother had detected his unease a long time ago. "-We could go for a tiny walk after I'm done... maybe."

Cloud said nothing of course, choosing instead to keep his reticence. He nodded though, not wanting to be so rude or dismissive after she'd done him such a _huge _favor. The headache would've made Cloud miserable for the rest of the night and well into the day, had it persisted.

Aerith walked off not long after, Cloud straining his ears as he heard her leave. Carefully, he listened to the muted environment for her sake; seeing as Cait Sith wasn't 'awake' to observe them right now. For that matter, everyone here was so damn tuckered out that no one except he and Aerith were conscious. That said, its probably safe to say Cait might've deemed the area around them relatively secured before turning off for the night.

Five reflective and oppressive minutes later, Aerith returned and placed their roll back in their ginormous duffel; her eyes troubled and her lip freshly bitten- a sheer tell of hers. She was _plainly_ in the mood to talk to Cloud, but even she knew she wouldn't get him to say much more when he wasn't in the mood for it.

_Although..._

Cloud's mind suddenly snapped onto a subject he realized he _needed _to broach; no matter how reluctant he felt. And seeing as everyone here was snoozing away and Aerith herself had admitted that she wasn't going to nod off anytime soon, he might as well indulge her while they had the privacy. For all he knew, it may help him clear out some of his stormy thoughts.

"Yunno what," he suddenly ejaculated between them. "Let's go on that walk. Ya mind?"

As expected, Aerith was _immediately_ on her feet with a vigor that betrayed her elated excitement; eyes wide and hands clapping softly together in belated approval. Cloud however ignored the random tinting of his ears and stiffly rose to feet; not sure why he felt so trepidatious about their oncoming conversation. Its certainly something he knew he wasn't going to enjoy, that's for sure.

For good measure, Cloud bent and picked up his Buster Sword; the steel clinking softly like an old partner patting him reassuringly on the back. Aerith had grabbed her staff in the meantime; a rod that folded into itself when not in use. They then crept away down an animal trail that lie not too far away from their campsite; Cloud's enhanced sight all the light he needed. Aerith had taken their flashlight in the meantime, keeping the beam leveled towards the forest floor to help her see the hidden roots.

For that first two or so minutes, they were silent; Cloud mentally stewing on the topic that had effectively stir-fried his brains for the better part of the last few hours. Once he was sure they were far enough away to avoid even Nanaki's usually good hearing did he finally breach their reverie.

"I know its gonna seem outta the blue," he muttered just between them. "-But I've been wondering about that boyfriend of yours. Zack, was it?"

Oh yeah. That _definitely _took off her guard. In fact, she even stumbled over her footing and blundered right into Cloud's side; almost dropping her light. "Great Gaia's holy fires!" She mouthed as he helped straighten her back to feet. "-Is _that _what you've been wondering about the whole night?"

Cloud blinked, and then shook his head with a resignation that palpably weighed him down. He folded his arms next, his following reply hesitant, "Well yeah, kinda. Mostly."

Aerith dusted herself off and fixed her light at roughly waist-level; her alert, deer-like gaze easily detectable to him. Her brow twitched and flickered; briefly dipping into a reflective frown. "Could I ask what brought this on?" she carefully asked in a neutral way.

"Stuff and things," he muttered rather weakly, scratching at the back of his head in a sheepish way.

"Uh-huh," she hummed.

The blond kept his timid gaze suddenly locked upon the ground, not sure as to how he could properly answer her question without giving away the very information he'd been deliberately neglecting to mention to both she and the rest of their companions for the past several weeks. _I shoulda thought this out a little more_, he couldn't help realizing.

"Its just," he slowly tried, sounding an awful lot like a teenager struggling to come up with a feasible excuse for their angry mother after coming home late. "-I just kinda remembered your little question back before Gongaga... The one where you asked me about if I knew 'im-?"

Aerith's pupils pinned, her expression immediately perked. In all honesty, she probably most likely expected Cloud to have forgotten it completely; seeing as she never brought it up again at any point after the following episode he had. In fact, Cloud had reacted quite _negatively_ to its initial mention; although the man couldn't really remember the incident itself so well. And to be really honest, Cloud had genuinely forgotten the conversation for the better part of last while. He only remembered this now because of his tying Sephiroth's name to Zack's significance for some unforeseeable reason.

In the meantime, Cloud folded his arms and turned to look off to the side, his frown seemingly cemented to his face. "About what you said," he continued, carefully chewing on his thoughts quite meticulously. "Its just... when I said I didn't know 'im, I said it because I really didn't think I _did _at the time. And even now, I still don't remember anything about 'em."

"...Oh."

Cloud blinked as he recognized the vague traces of disappointment interlacing the simple word, but he didn't comment on it. "All I know is that, I've been hearing you and Tifa muttering about him for the past few days; mostly in passing. I wasn't tryin' to listen in." He huffed at that, "You said yourself we're a small group. So of course at least one of us is gonna eventually notice."

"You are right about that," Aerith shrugged helplessly.

The man glanced away sheepishly, truly having not intended to have heard as little as he did. Eyes lowered in silent rebuke, he went on, "Well uh, anyways-" he muttered. "You guys really don't say much, but it makes me wonder if there's still a reason for it. I'd understand if ya wanted to talk to Tifa about it cuz its a girl thing, for all I know." He bobbed his shoulders dismissively, "But you've been mentioning him so _frequently _that I couldn't help wondering if there's another reason for it. On the side-"

Cloud meandered a bit to the right and then returned to his original spot; arms retaining their folded position. He tossed the hilt of the Buster sword a glance, "-I wanted to ask you what Zack's like; and if he ever said he knew Sephiroth. Or if the Turks ever said anything about him in general; especially if this sword was actually _his _at any point. I know it doesn't have anything to do with what we've been doing lately-" He passed her a stiff, albeit slightly morose glance, "-But I figured if I knew a bit more about him, maybe I can figure out how I got the damn thing in the first place."

_And see if its connected to my missing memory, _he almost said aloud.

Aerith jerked her head, intrigued, "Wait... you don't actually remember ever receiving the Buster sword? At _all_?"

Cloud incrementally shook his head, reluctant to reply after having internalized all of his worries about his memory for so long. Again, he's never outwardly admitted to anyone that he had a five-year hole in his life; and that included however way he ever came to posses the Buster sword. But now, to actually say this to anything that isn't his own reflection, it couldn't have felt more like a betrayal to _himself_: As if he was actually splitting apart his own body from neck to naval and pouring out all of whom he was.

It couldn't have felt more _**wrong**_.

By now, Aerith had caught the anxious look that came over Cloud's countenance, her expression suddenly softer as one of her hands migrated to her chest. She seemed to understand that this was Cloud's way of trying to let them know what's been going on with him; all the while he wanted to see what's been on their minds as well. She thankfully didn't press for more or less, merely nodding and smiling gently as she said, "...Alright then. I understand."

On that note, she checked the forest floor around them for any unsavory insects and daintily seated herself; her light set on her lap. Cloud then did the same; taking the Buster sword and plunging its tip into the dirt to keep it upright. He then carefully settled himself across from her, resting his arms on his knees just as his mouth went stupid dry.

"So... what did you want to know?" she started for them.

"Whatever you can tell me," Cloud urged. "I need to know _everything_ you knew about 'em."

Aerith blinked at him, her expression strangely distant. She pursed her lip, and then, "For the record... with what I'm about to tell you, I've never even told _Tifa_. I don't really... talk about him that much."

"...Why?" Cloud cocked his head, confusion nettling at the forefront of his mind as he weighed the times he heard the girls mutter Zack's name in secrecy. Its like they forget he had near super-human hearing sometimes.

Aerith's expression noticeably darkened, "Its been five years, for me. Whenever I think about Zack, sometimes I wonder if my recollection of him is a little colored by foggy sentimentality." She huffed, her next shift in inflection a bitter-sweet smile Cloud never recalled seeing upon her, "Kinda like a decent memory of a flavor you're fond of but you can't exactly remember actually _liking _it, you know?"

"Oh. Yeah. I think I get it," Cloud said while scratching his head.

"But it can't be that," Aerith slowly added on. "-Because if that's really the case, I wouldn't have felt the need to write to him for as long as I did." She shook her head, "Even when he's been missing for so long, I kept writing to him for _four years _after he was gone. Surely, my memory of him isn't so unreliable, right?"

Cloud frowned a bit, astounded at the portent. "You must've been _really _fond of him then," he shrugged. "I can't imagine it being anything else."

She mirrored Cloud's last gesture with a more demure version; her smile small, "Well, sure. When you put it that way." Her hands folded into her lap, gaze downcast, "Its funny. Zack was SOLDIER, and yet someone I still felt inclined to trust and even subsequently _date_. Even today I wonder why I did that... especially since he'd even said himself he's friends with the Turks. Sometimes I wonder why dating him was such a good idea. Mom used to hate hearing me mention Zack at all pretty much because of that very reason."

"...Huh. Did he ever learn that you were an Ancient?" Cloud raised a brow, cocking his head a bit.

Aerith shook her head, "No. I was never sure if I _could_ tell him... not that he's ever showed any inclination to hurt me or betray my trust in any way. I couldn't even _imagine _that being the case." Her expression flipped to morose, "I just can't put the words 'Zack' and 'dishonorable' in the same sentence. Every time I described him, even in vague detail, its always in a good way. Its with a feeling I'd never expect from myself; especially when it comes to a member of SOLDIER. Its kind of why I don't talk about him in detail."

Her smile steadily became more earnest, albeit minuscule. "Maybe my memory of him _**is **_a little colored... but I love every single memory I have of him, regardless. That said, even I can't help wondering why I never told him I was an Ancient-" She frowned there. "-Especially since I managed to share that little secret with you and the rest easily enough. I don't think him being in Shinra was ever really the biggest issue for me. Maybe."

Cloud weighed this quite seriously before saying, "You just didn't want him to think differently of you as a person. Right?"

Aerith cringed as if bracing in anticipation of an imaginary smack; as if the statement itself was a tangible rebuke for her lack in trust. Clearly, she seemed repentant of never saying anything to Zack; if her wringing and pulling at her wrists were anything to go by.

Cloud felt his own frown return anew, "So, how long were you even dating him anyhow?"

She held up two, tiny, timid little fingers; much to Cloud's apparent shock. "Two years," she confirmed.

_And yet she never said anything. Wow, _he couldn't help wondering. _Is she really that afraid of him thinking her different? Or is it something else? She liked him well enough. So surely there's something else-?_

Cloud's next expression darkened; Aerith's own face falling ever lower as she glimpsed its tonal shift. She shuffled in place like she wanted to drop the subject; wondering if Cloud's currently unsatisfied facade was some sort of silent reprimand for never saying anything to Zack. Cloud never meant for it to be that way though; suddenly erasing all signs of his earlier displeasure and softening his features in response.

"Look uh," he muttered, scratching his head once. "I'm not sayin' that _not _tellin' him was wrong or anything-"

She shook her head, her eyes beholding a certain vulnerability that he's never seen within her since their flight through Midgar. "Its okay," she gently corrected. "-I know. I was just thinking something else..."

"Oh yeah?"

Ruefully, she said, "...You know, sometimes I wondered if he ever actually _knew _but just didn't say anything for some reason. He never hinted at the latter." She meandered on, as if to verbally sort out this information herself. "-He always acted like nothing's wrong. The only time I've ever seen him visibly distressed about something was in the fall-out of some of his missions."

Her shoulders tensed, "Like when his mentor died, or when he told me he would be gone for long periods of time. Every other time I saw him, he just kept that goofy smile stuck to his face. Sometimes, I couldn't even tell if he was making a joke or he was being serious. He had a tendency to use humor to deflect how he felt." She sighed, "Even when you think someone's so obvious and easy to read, they can still be an enigma to you. You know what I mean?"

Cloud folded his arms, his eyes wandering to the ground as he weighed this information with sincere dubiety. From what little he can glean, this Zack sounded like an apt boyfriend and generally good person; but it only made him feel all the more apprehensive as to _why _he could've deliberately forgotten him; given that was the case.

_Even Aerith goes on about how good he was, and she's not a gossipy and sappy person, _He mentally wondered. _But that still doesn't explain my own connection to him. Even if I __**do **__have one, why I'd want to forget someone who seems to be a decent guy? Why would I do that anyway? Was he some rival or something? Or did he go bad like Sephiroth-?_

_No. Think, Cloud. You __**know **__that's not it. _Cloud pursed his lip and studiously reviewed what he knew, and then, _According to Zack's parents, Zack vanished five years ago. That's weirdly consistent with the damn hole in your head. Surely that's not unrelated?_

"Aerith," he gently interjected. "Did he... Did he ever say anything about Sephiroth in particular? And uh, didn't you say he went missing five years back?"

"He did, yeah."

"A job gone wrong, ya think?"

She looked away rather sharply; the motion clearly reflexive. "From what I hear, yes," she imputed without any inclination to elaborate.

_...She's leaving something out. But for what reason and why?_

Cloud forcibly kept his gaze level and neutral; not wanting to let the girl know he suspected as much. "And Sephiroth?" he went on to press instead.

"He did mention him...Once or twice," she actually reciprocated, her stare wandering to the forest floor before slowly coming to meet Cloud's in turn. "-Although, he never said anything specific. The only times he's ever mentioned Sephiroth was to assure me that Sephiroth was participating in a mission and I shouldn't worry..." Her stare hardened, "-Not that ever worked. Whenever Sephiroth's name cropped up I automatically knew the mission was more dangerous than the usual norm."

_...Five years. Zack. Sephiroth- And the fact that my last memory since then was me fighting 'em... And the fact Tifa seems to know him too..._

_It __**can't **__be..._

"Aerith..." he slowly went to ask, his expression flat-lining to total blankness. "Did he ever say what his last mission was?"

"...No," She admitted honestly, keeping Cloud's gaze as she replied. _Not lying then, _He figured as she added on with, "He never told me _anything _directly. I could only guess a lot of the time. He never mentioned the name of the place he went when I last saw him. He only said Sephiroth was coming with him and that he's mentoring someone. That and he said he had some 'close friends' coming with him."

_Hm. So she doesn't know if he went to Nibelheim? Given he even __**went**__, _Cloud inwardly wondered as he carefully turned over what he knew.

"By the sounds of it," Cloud grumbled, deciding that her previous answer would have to do for now. "-He could've been keeping some secrets from _you _too."

She sighed, "I know..."

"Its not his fault there," he shrugged. "A SOLDIER's job isn't exactly something any decent person could ever explain to a loved one. They actually give you some sorta shrink or somethin' in Shinra depending on your occupation just for that reason." Cloud bristled, shoulders squaring rather tensely at the previous statement. "That said, he's probably afraid of your opinion of him as a boyfriend would change. Its not uncommon for people to presume SOLDIER a buncha monsters after meeting _one_."

The girl let out a bitter chuckle, her shoulders jerking marginally. "Don't I know it," she shrugged. "I used to call them scary. I was afraid of SOLDIER, once."

Cloud blinked, "Now I wonder how you even muscled up the nerve to date this guy."

Aerith shuffled in her seat, her eyes lingering over the clear patch of soil between them. Her expression fell even further than before; her previous smile a distant memory. Whatever light she might've had left within her faded; a single hand wandering to her chest in a balled up fist.

"I wouldn't have thought any less of him," she lowly breathed, referring back to Cloud's previous statement before the last. "I've seen him fight here and there... He never killed _anyone _when he was around me- even the monsters were spared whenever one popped up. He'd only ever used the blunt side of his sword when it really boiled down to it. In fact, he preferred his fists if something gave him trouble."

_'Around me' is the key words though._

Cloud found this to be a special detail for some reason; though he couldn't fathom why that's the case. He dipped his head in reflective reverie, his eyes wandering over to the Buster sword itself. The blade's sharpest edges glinted innocently in the low lighting shared betwixt them; having been sharpened before Cloud had gone to bed that previous night.

His lips thinned as he scrutinized the steel's more reflective parts; suddenly feeling the heavy need to blink his eyes rapidly a few times. Whatever bit him in the ass next could've been either exhaustion or surprise or a flicker of _something _he just couldn't grasp: Because it came to him _right then _and not at any other moment.

Needing to put voice to it, he said, "What did he do when he was stressed out? Whenever his missions went AWOL, I mean. Any quirks or somethin' that stand out?"

_Surely this will jog my memory. ANYTHING._

Aerith moved a lithe hand to her chin, her stare ponderous. "He did squats," was her first answer. "He never did like sitting still for long periods of time."

"Nothin' else?"

Aerith's eyes drifted somewhere off to her left; her gaze lingering over the Buster Sword before she said, "Well... he did this one thing, but I've only ever seen him do it _once_. I'm not even sure it counts..."

Cloud followed the trajectory of her gaze; focusing on the Buster sword itself in turn. He didn't even know he was speaking his own thought aloud as he slowly said, "...Its a thing he did with the sword, huh?"

The girl's bejeweled gaze locked onto Cloud in a way that almost audibly _snapped_; her gaze somewhat alarmed or shocked. Neither emotion was definitive; each blending seamlessly together in warring incredulity. She didn't interrupt nor elaborate; merely watching as Cloud suddenly rose from his sitting position and wander over to the sword.

Retaining her sentinel silence, she observed as Cloud pulled the weapon from its pedestal within the earth; his expression weirdly blank. Now silhouetted by the fragile beams of moonlight in the backdrop, only Cloud's profile was discerned against the environment; that and the reflective nature of the Buster sword whenever it caught as much of Aerith's light as it could. He hefted the thing with meticulous and gradual care, up until the tip was pointed heaven-ward. With both hands on the hilt and his gaze firmly arrested upon the polished steel, he appeared for all intents and purposes in a _trace _to her; as if he was finally receiving some long awaited-answers only in this way.

Cloud's blank expression receded somewhat, turning the sword a bit in his hands as he measured its appearance all-in-all. "He did a thing," he mouthed. "Nobody else did it. No one but him."

Aerith blinked a couple times, finding the fragmented nature of Cloud's words odd but not doing anything to remedy or query them.

Cloud's eye-lids flickered once, and then he twitched forward without knowing it. The memory was _there_; he knew it was. It hovered relentlessly, doing its very best to become known to him. He huffed, frustrated as it continued to linger out of reach.

"What was it," he mumbled, feeling his gaze harden.

He jerked when he heard Aerith rise, but he didn't lower the sword as she went to stop beside him and eye the sword herself. She pursed her lip, and then reached towards the Buster sword's blunt end. She grazed it with seemingly affectionate care, her expression wistful. And then, mutely, _reverently_, she pulled the flat of the weapon towards Cloud himself in what felt like slow-motion.

"Like this," she whispered, words almost entirely devoured by the creaking resonance of crying crickets and crackling tree limbs in the back-drop.

The ghostly kiss of cold metal across his forehead was nearly shock-stark; but not at all uncomfortable. If anything, its a cool balm against fevered skin; Cloud having not known he's been building yet another small headache throughout this talk. Still, the physical contact drew a startled gasp from him as chilly steel met his forehead; his vision blackened as the Buster sword stole away what little light he had to see with. The pitch dark devoured his sight entirely; his mind whirling in place as the proverbial fog settled around him.

And when he opened his eyes next, he was met with not the verdant gems of a beautiful woman or the slick surface of tungsten and steel-

_-But the cheerful bloom of sapphire sky on a cloudless day in the middle of summer; an intense color too impossibly light to be someone's __**eyes**__. The color nearly matched Cloud's own; a gentle azure that warmed more than it could ever freeze. Interlaced intimately within the cerulean depths swirled the greenish-tint the blond identified as mako energy._

_**The mark of a TRUE SOLDIER.**_

_Cloud couldn't make out the rest of him though; and its so fucking irritating that he felt an inner fury rear its head; bubbling and brimming right below the surface. He retained his outward 'calm' however, trying to take the time to grasp the memory for what its worth. _

_The blackness had gone now; and instead, the spectral radiance of sunlight through glass in beams hovered around him; warm and inviting in its entirety. It embraced him and removed whatever chill he had before; a velvety softness lying just beneath his pounding skull._

_**...Another headache. Great. **_

_Cloud groaned at this, gritting his teeth once and sitting up with an alertness that belied his apprehension; as if anticipating a violent skirmish to befall him. He heard a "Whoa there!" at that; the other stranger voice shocking him into stillness. "Take it easy, man. Nice and slow."_

_"Eh, huh?" Cloud rubbed his scalp, completely at a loss as to where he was. He inspected his environment but saw nothing distinguishable; mired in a weird haze as it was. When he instead arrested his attention on the source of the other voice, he couldn't help his little jump:_

_The shadowy figure sitting across from him was a __**literal **__mirage of black. Its an infinite mass of darkness that distorted all of the man's features; with the exception of his hooded, mako-charged eyes. But even in the shade of shifting murk and a sorrowful expression interwoven in place, his stare was frustratingly solid; gingerly soft in a way that's almost parental. _

_"You doin' okay?" He murmured softly, as if aware of Cloud's pounding skull and not wanting to aggravate it. The bed he was sitting on made a noise as he shuffled, betraying the other man's innate unease._

_Cloud felt himself bob his head; not at all able to control his own motions. Its an automatic response; and one the blond found he had no will over._

_**Calm down. Its a memory. Don't freak out.**_

_"Where is... How're we-?"_

_"If you're askin' about her, ya don't need to worry... Tifa's safe," suddenly bespoke the other, as if to quell the rising surge of fear rioting within Cloud. The voice was low, mellow, gentle; a smooth timbre that's usually a strong source of comfort. The strength and weight of it had always concreted assurance; forcibly ensnaring the blond's weary and wavering attention. _

_Cloud unconsciously lifted a hand to his head and rubbed once. "You said she's safe?" he parroted._

_"Yeah. In fact, she's in better shape than you," the foggy mass spouted; and clearly without thinking at that. _

_In response to this, Cloud couldn't help his following jerk; the recollection of it all falling down upon him at once:_

_They'd been attacked. ATTACKED. On mount Nibel!_

_And Cloud had failed to protect her._

_From THEM._

_Not from the monsters that naturally dwelled atop the mountain... but some other, more __**human **__threat that had knocked him out cold while he'd been standing guard outside the mako reactor._

_And Tifa had SEEN his failure._

_This said, the smaller man shrunk into himself; shoulders hunching and head weaving away just so he didn't have to face his friend's apologetic gaze._

_**Don't look at me. Don't feel sorry for me.**_

_**Stop looking down on me.**_

_"...If only I were SOLDIER..." He found himself saying, not knowing where the words had come from. He said them aloud, hoping for the emotional support and guidance the other usually supplied- without fail._

_Except for this time. Cloud didn't know what he expected, but the man's following words certainly weren't something he wanted to hear right now. He first heard a sigh, seeing from the corner of his peripherals as the mass of shadows meant to be the man's head shake in dismissal. _

_"...SOLDIER's like a den of monsters," he bespoke tonelessly. The slow delivery of his words however couldn't have been more serious; the blond having never heard his friend speak in such a way before. If nothing else, his next comment was a warning; and one that assuredly brought his spirits down further: "Don't go inside," he breathed in somber, but no less firm finality._

_Cloud continued inspecting the other, feeling himself say "What happened?" in reply; suddenly sensing some other underlying issue hidden within the strangely cryptic warning. For the life of him, he just didn't understand why his friend was acting this __**weird**__. Cryptic just wasn't something his friend was. If nothing else, he would usually preach about chasing your dreams. But this? Cloud didn't know what to think._

_After a long time stewing within this subdued silence, finally the larger man said, "I dunno man. I thought I knew, but..."_

_He trailed off, and then the mass was seen throwing itself backward on a bed that struck Cloud as also familiar; not that he cared to know that detail. Still he focused on the SOLDIER, hearing him sigh rather loudly._

_"By the way," he eventually asked, his tone marginally more its normal self. "Do you know Tifa?"_

_Cloud was __immediately __embarrassed; turning around in his seat to face the wall opposite his friend. He rested his arms on armored knee-caps, wondering how in all the world did the other man figure that out so quickly when Cloud had been so __**careful**__. Its not like he ever told this SOLDIER about Tifa; so how did he come to that conclusion?_

_"Eh... sort of," he mumbled in the smallest voice ever, not really comfortable discussing this so soon after the incident on Mt. Nibel. Weren't they just talking about something else not a second ago?_

_"Talked to her?" he pressed for Minerva knows what reason._

_Cloud shook his head, feeling ashamed for all intents and purposes. "No," he murmured faintly, still feeling silly about this whole thing. _

_A faint lilt betrayed both the SOLDIER's playfulness and genuine concern as he said, "I'm sensing some issues here... shouldn't you do something?"_

_Cloud dipped his head, unable to say anything to defend himself without sounding so pathetic- not that his friend was trying to be antagonistic on purpose. No, he was __**never **__that kind of person to begin with; and the only time he's ever done something like this was to push your buttons in ways meant to help you grow. __He __was a sincere man Cloud trusted implicitly._

_**How do I know him? Who is he? Why do I want to know-? I want to know-**_

_"I'm one to talk..." the SOLDIER finally sighed, catching onto Cloud's desire to change the subject. He said nothing else for a real long time after this, as if his words were more an intrusive, secretive, escaped thought he'd been bottling up. Maybe even __**he**__ didn't know he said them aloud, but he certainly didn't seem repentant about speaking them anyways- _

_Unlike Cloud himself, who always felt horrible for just being __**there **__like some unwanted stain in someone else's white britches. Too many times, either someone was shutting him out or he did it to himself. He never trusted his own words, never even breathed them by accident. For the life of him, he was as socially inept as he was weak. He couldn't even protect Tifa when they'd been in genuinely dire straits-_

_But whenever he was around this guy, this proper, gentle, compassionate man who he proudly called his best friend, he never felt this hushed desire to silence nor censor himself so much. At the very start of this whole conversation, Cloud had freely let slip his emotional desire of being one of them- one of SOLDIER, just for his only friend in all of Shinra to hear. There's only __**one **__other person in his whole life who knew this desire, and its the aforementioned Tifa in question. Hell, not even Cloud's MOM knew. She'd worry far too much if she did._

_Cloud listened in to the shuffling of fabric, watching as the mass of black that's meant to be his friend slipped from his bed and meander across the room. "I'm with SOLDIER, so... fighting's all I do," he began in this neutral tone Cloud didn't really recognize that well. The rap of his waffle-stompers were the only other distinguishable sound in the room by this point._

_"...Sorting things out... is someone else's job," he continued levelly, taking the moment to create these long pauses between his words- as if to help concrete their meaning in a different way. Whatever other subtext was there though was lost on Cloud for that initial moment. _

_And then, his comrade stopped; his tone hardening with every syllable passing between his unseen lips. "What's going on? Why are we doing this? Who's the enemy?" He almost snarled. _

_He suddenly whipped out an arm and snatched the innocuous Buster Sword; which had been lying just out of Cloud's foggy vision until the scene scrolling by played out enough for him to glimpse it. He watched the man-shaped mass of shifting shadows effortlessly heft it with ease; his voice its most insidious, uncharacteristically frustrated and most fearsome growl yet. _

_"**IT MAKES NO DIFFERENCE TO ME!**" He bellowed with feral abandon, throwing back the blade over his featureless head like he's going to bring it down on some poor, unforeseen foe cringing beneath him. Cloud still couldn't see a whole lot, but he can easily envision a flash of teeth and a wolfish snap following it. He watched his friend's clearly-evident eyes flare amidst the confusing mess of dark; the one thing on his face Cloud could visibly take in the details of._

_For one, long, dreadful moment, his friend stood there; lost amidst his own turbulence as Cloud himself. His face, no matter how indistinguishable, reflected a sense of dysphoric hopelessness (helplessness?) Cloud couldn't help identifying with. He watched his friend slump, his oceanic glare softening, blade sitting heavy in his hands still suspended over him- A burden he alone carried; a great weight that seemingly tired him. _

_**Why did he have such a thing anyways? Does it not belong to me? Is his weight really my own?**_

_Eventually, the figure threw back his head like he was getting shot in the heart, his following groan almost a whimper of sincere pain. His emotions seem to boil and froth angrily behind him; and as if to tame that roiling mess, he pressed what Cloud figured was his forehead against his sword. The strange quirk seemed to have an effect on him though; as he was witnessed slumping over still further. The vague square indicating the placement of his shoulders lowered, his head dipping down as he released the longest, and most painstakingly agonized sigh Cloud has ever heard from him._

_Just how much pain was __**he**__ in anyways? Here Cloud sat, lamenting his own worthlessness like the little shit-head he was, and yet he's never once noticed his own best friend's increasingly heavier burdens plaguing him. He clearly didn't like his job; he clearly hated being here; he clearly announced his lack of human say over whatever bull-shit assignment Shinra sent him on. __And now, he was **clearly **informing Cloud to stay out of SOLDIER._

_Just what kind of friend can Cloud call himself after all that? Minerva forbid he say anything in protest or ignored his friend's pained warning._

_Still, the pregnant silence held its trembling fist above the lonely pair; leaving Cloud wanting to change the subject yet again. But this time, its for his friend's sake._

_"Hey __**Zack**__," Cloud began again, watching his friend remain stationary where he was. He showed no other signs of hearing the smaller individual however, keeping his head pressed against the flat of the blade. He kept forcing breaths to help calm himself, and this internally pained Cloud in-turn. This said, Cloud went on to ask, "You know, I've never seen you use that."_

_The figure, Zack as he was apparently named, moved his head, the distortion around his body less foggy than before. The swirling blankets of mist surrounding him cleared just a bit; just enough to let Cloud see the man looking up in what he figured was genuine surprise. His blue eyes were wide, the blade lowering as he seemed to take the moment to absorb the blond's words. Incrementally, he sobered up from the despairing weight of whatever had dragged him down before._

_He moved enough to let Cloud know he'd thrown a glance at him; the appearance of his eyes certainly indicating it to be so. But then, he turned slowly back towards the object in his hands, his voice reverent, "This... This is a symbol of my dreams, and my honor." He wound up pausing, taking the second to level the blade elsewhere. The SOLDIER slowly moved the Buster Sword in a gradual half-arc, as if watching its trajectory was helping him pace his thoughts._

_"No," he solidly corrected himself not a half-minute later. He lifted his chin (or Cloud figured he did), his tone bordering on hopeful as he amended his earlier words with, "Its more." He turned towards the blond, lowering the blade some and giving the smaller man what he figured was his most gracious thanks. "That's right," he murmured. "...I've almost forgotten."_

_His next expression lit his entire face; almost __**literally **__at that: The foggy mass swirling around him dispersing all the more as he spared Cloud his most sincere smile yet. His teeth flashed through the blackness; the infinite dark slowly dissipating as he grinned. With the literal cloak of shadows almost perfectly transient, Cloud could see some of the more obscured details; but they flickered into being and were gone again just that quickly. Still, its enough to see the scars on the man's left cheek; the pained curl of his thin lips before transforming into a more sincere smile._

_"Thank you, Cloud," Zack gently imputed._

_"Huh?"_

_Cloud received no reply, instead watching as the not-so-foggy SOLDIER meticulously placed the blade back in its original position with affectionate care. He pumped out his arms, bellowing "Right!" in a way to finish motivating himself. He rapidly spun on the ball of his heels, swung his arms in arcs as if to limber up, and then stopped beside his bed just long enough to pump out some squats. Jovially, he said, "I'm gonna crash!" and dramatically threw himself onto his bed, adding a cheery "Night!" right after._

_Cloud couldn't figure out what he did or what he said to pep him up, but he's certainly glad it was effective; regardless. "Goodnight. Zack," he mouthed to the unmoving other; not at all able to fully grasp the image of endless crimson surrounding him. _

_Why the color of his bed spread upsetted Cloud, he didn't know. All he knew was that the growing frame of rouge that walled in the barely visible image of his shadowy friend set a fire within his veins that he just didn't understand._

_And the thought filled him guilt anew._

Cloud blinked; his head pounding as he removed his forehead from the chilly surface of the Buster sword. He lowered it somewhat, feeling a leaden tingling creep up his arms as his grip loosened incrementally. Slowly, the Buster sword fell lower to the ground; its sheer mass almost too much to hold at that second.

_What the Hell-?_

"Cloud?"

His eyes snapped to Aerith beside him, his breathing rattling out of parted lips. He hadn't noticed he'd been panting; like a long-furred dog in the middle of summer. That said, his unease was clearly upsetting Aerith too; the girl's expression stressed and concerned on several degrees.

"You okay?" she uncertainly tried, one hand balling up to her breast again. "You know I can heal you if you feel bad enough-"

"Ah... uh... I-" Cloud hung his head, and then told himself to breathe. He closed his eyes and heaved as deeply and as slowly as possible; the Buster sword dropping ever lower until its tip was barely an inch above the ground. After doing this for another minute, he elevated the blade and clapped it to his back; trying his best to focus on the fluttering dregs of the memory.

_Hold it there. Don't let it go. Don't lose it._

"I'm fine," he finally told her, doing his best to say it with as much assurance as possible. "Its going away already."

Aerith bobbed her head, still carefully inspecting Cloud for any other signs of ailment. She was still skeptical, but Cloud couldn't blame her.

Cloud huffed and turned, focusing on her more properly this time. "Really Aerith. I assure you I'm better now. In fact-" He flicked his head to indicate the sword, "I think the demonstration helped."

"Wha- The thing with the Buster sword?"

"Yeah," Cloud nodded.

Aerith excitedly jumped in place, eyes aglow in the night-time darkness. "You remembered something?" she asked as both hands clapped to her breast in matched excitement.

Cloud coolly harrumphed and briefly glanced off to the side, a little belated that his memory was doing _something _with itself. _I knew this talk would help somehow, _he inwardly wondered._ But it still doesn't chase away the unease that memory gave me._

_Why won't the guilt go away? Is Sephiroth's words somehow true-?_

Nonetheless, he tamped down on his apprehension and said, "Yeah. Well, I guess I can finally safely answer your earlier question now."

"What one?"

Another beleaguered sigh; and then, "The one where you asked me if I knew 'im. Cuz I'm pretty sure I did."

* * *

~777~

_"You did?" she cautiously replied. "You really did?"_

_Cloud again nodded, his expression hardening to its usual and more stern expression. "Yup," he said. "But now... I can't help wondering what happened to him, and why I can't remember anything of him." He scratched his head again, "What little I do know is just... blurry. Man this is such a pain in the ass."_

_"Well, I'm still really happy you finally remembered **something**," the girl went on, even going as far as to grab Cloud's arm and hold it there. "This is progress! This means we might finally have a means of helping you get better!"_

_"...Ya think so?"_

_"Absolutely!" said she. "Retracing Zack's steps could do the trick."_

_"I dunno... that sounds kinda far-fetched. Dontcha think?"_

_The girl passed him a brief shrug, "Hm, maybe. I guess it doesn't seem like a totally solid plan... But what __**does **__stand as decent plan is going after the Turks: I bet if we get to the bottom of Zack's disappearance, maybe it'll finish jogging your memory-"_

_"Yeah... maybe."_

"...Maybe indeed," Cait Sith muttered to himself as he continued watching them from afar; using the hidden microphone in his tail-tip to capture just the smallest of murmurs between them.

Cait had followed the two some three minutes after their initial departure; wondering if the pair would be alright at this hour. There's that, and keeping to his main directive: Keep Cloud within sight as much as possible. Concern and mission parameters blurred; but both were reason enough for his presence here; unbeknownst to the duo. He had to leave the large moogle behind; seeing as stealth was much easier to perform when its just the feline.

"Go after the Turks, huh?" Cait wondered, whiskers twitching. "I wonder if that's somethin' she and Tifa had been discussing?"

He quieted down as the two tittered on, watching them discus if the goal was worth pursuing. Cloud seemed not at all reluctant like Cait had expected however; instead pumping a fist and nodding assuredly to Aerith as if to confirm his inclusion into whatever she and Tifa devised.

_I can't help wonderin' though... _The cat thought to itself. _So Cloud can't remember much past Nibelheim, but why is that? And why do I keep hearing that other feller's name anyhow? Zack is dead, isn't he?_

Cait Sith didn't know much of some of the older SOLDIER members before being turned on for the very first time; but what he did know was from Reeve: And its more than enough to get him by. Zack's name had struck him as a rather curious anomaly though; and with a little research Cait learned that Zack went presumably K.I.A five years back. On the side, Tifa and Aerith speak of Zack in the present tense; and it struck Cait Sith as a little odd. That and the fact that they seemed certain that the Turks knew what happened to him; plus what Zack's parents claimed in Gongaga- The cat just couldn't help feeling something about this shouldn't be ignored. At the very least, Zack's name is something Reeve will certainly bring up with Tseng; once Cait reported this.

When the twosome broke up their little convo, Cait quit recording; snapping his tail behind his back and wading back through the underbrush in total silence. He managed to get to the camp more quickly than they; climbing atop of the mog and pretending to nod off into sleep mode again. Aerith and Cloud hadn't even noticed, tired as they were from discussing these matters long into the night.

Once the pair were safely and soundly asleep did Cait move again; this time to compile his message to Reeve first and foremost. And then, he sent a tiny update to Reno, Rude, Cissnei and Tseng's numbers; still a little confused as to why he'd been commanded to feed them this information. He knew Tseng and Reeve were on relatively friendly terms with each other; but its hard to tell what the Turk Head was thinking sometimes.

What was in that little drive Tseng handed Reeve still baffled Cait Sith: In it, there had been a link with military-grade coding that allowed Tseng to connect to Reeve privately; therein he began asking Reeve rather obscured questions about Rufus's unrealistic pursuit of the Promised Land and if he truthfully supported his recently passed notions from that one meeting. Tseng had uncharacteristically and openly stated that he disapproved of them; shocking Reeve into silence. Moreover, he wanted to talk to Reeve about this _alone_; further putting the older man on edge.

Why would Tseng want to do such a thing anyway? Surely its a _trap_. Tseng was loyal to Rufus; and its always been that way since Rufus was a child. For the life of them; what did Rufus do to change all that? Was it the promotion? Or was there some other card hidden under the table Tseng had chosen to conceal from them?

Reeve had carefully pondered Tseng's next words: The proposal to meet in secrecy somewhere Northwest of the Bone Village. He wanted to talk to Reeve in a place where they couldn't be heard; where Shinra ears (including Cait himself) couldn't reach. It was a turnabout the Head of Urban Development never saw coming.

_Welp. One thing's for sure, _the cat pondered as he finished the last of his updates. _Whatever Tseng __**does **__have planned, whether its a trap for Reeve or a true proclamation of his protest to Shinra goals; it'll certainly make some heads roll. Either way, I think its fair to say Tseng and his underlings are both cuttin' against the grain here._

_And that'll be the __**real **__game-changer._


	15. Miscalculation

~777~

That next day, AVALANCHE had configured a new and more _forward_ plan of action.

"Targeting Mako reactors is one thing," Barret growled. "But Shinra would be able to fix 'em in due time. So now, we're doin' somethin' a little _different_."

He turned towards Tifa first, and then leveled his most profound and severe expression ever produced to the rest. His grizzled facade had always been intimidating to some; but his current excitement was made further exaggerated by the cruel twists of his scars cutting into the cheek perfectly framing his grinning mouth. His eyes lingered over Cloud particularly the longest.

"Hittin' mako reactors buys the planet invaluable time, don't get me wrong," He gesticulated. "-But we haven't exactly been able to do anythin' like dat since leavin' Midgar. That was just the beginning!" He pumped a fist next, "That bein' said, we need a new plan- Somethin' with a little more substance and a more _permanent_ solution." He paced around, jerking his head in inclination. "Accordin' to Kitty Sith here-"

"That's _Cait _Sith, bucko!" The mechanical cat crowed, tail swishing forward.

Barret ignored him of course, "-From what _puss-in-boots _here said, izzat Shinra's comin' to Rocket town for some sorta thing about their non-existent space program- And the heads _themselves _will be there." His grin only widened at that, "Giving Shinra the ol' runaround the world while hitting them with mosquito bites and protecting the flower girl is good 'n all, but we need to shake things up. We need to strike 'em where it hurts the _most_-!""

"Get to the point already," Cloud half-heartedly interjected, tired of the other man's theatrical build-up. He even folded his arms for good measure, cocking a hip to emphasize his growing impatience.

"Now hold on there, Spiky! Don't be ruining the suspense 'ere!" Barret pointedly jabbed at him. "I'm gettin' there!"

Cloud harrumphed at him, but didn't say anything beyond that. Today, he was in a much better mood; so he proceeded to let Barret have his fun. As it is, he already knew what all his posturing was about anyways; and the idea didn't actually bother Cloud any. _If anything, it'll certainly be more interesting, _the shorter man figured as Barret droned on.

After recalling that memory of Zack successfully last night, he fiercely anchored the recollection as close to his heart as he could possibly manage; even informing Aerith of all the details in a breathy rush before it slipped free of his grasp. Its akin to holding water in cupped baby palms; something that continuously sluiced free of whatever little feeble grip he had. He _**had **_to tell her just in case he forgot again; as its bad enough he knew couldn't write it down as fast as he progressively lost the information. Talking was not only faster, but giving voice to what little he knew gave it a tangibility that made it just a little more solid.

Aerith had eagerly soaked up every bit of information he offered; her flashing expressions all betraying her girlish excitement at learning that Cloud and Zack had in fact been close; or at least, close enough. She said that in case Cloud ever forgot again, she'd be more than happy to remind him. And eventually, it just may all come back to him.

As it is, he didn't _want _to forget the feelings of camaraderie he shared with this Zack Fair. He didn't _want_ to leave the man's face in perpetual shadow. Its bad enough he couldn't remember more than just a scar, the sword, and the fact he had the same eyes as Cloud. But to forget someone who so clearly only wanted to do as much good for Cloud as he could possibly do, it felt both cruel and wrong to keep burying the information.

He needed to know. He needed to see him again.

_What I don't understand is that I wasn't in SOLDIER when I knew him, _he'd later note. _But that misty background... it __**was **__Nibelheim, wasn't it? So... was I not in SOLDIER five years ago? How come my damn brain is so fucked up? _Cloud surveyed himself briefly, _But I'm built like one, aren't I? Isn't this strength my own? Why would Sephiroth even bring up Zack anyways? Am I somehow responsible for his disappearance? Does this explain my guilt?_

The questions were numerous; akin to debris swirling in a viciously powerful tornado that tore both land and foundation and every sense of security Cloud had ever known. And while he understood that each query had no clear or good answers, he wanted to brave each one in-turn. Albeit, as slowly as he felt he could manage.

In the meantime, Cloud had to put aside these throes; knowing that their relevance would matter only a little later on. Today, he had to focus on AVALANCHE's new goals; to conserve his strength for the challenges this day offered. He also knew that he can (and will) talk to Tifa about Nibelheim later on, when they had the privacy. For all he knew, she really _could _have known Zack five years ago; given this memory had been true in any way.

Back in the present, Barret harrumphed and proudly brandished his gun-arm; the gesture representative of some ancient desire to punch one flesh hand into the other while he had both a long time ago. "So now," he went on with the bunching and flexing of his immense physique. "-I've decided we're gonna take a bit of initiative 'round here: Cuz we'll be going after the big-heads _**themselves**_: Startin' with that uppity fat-ass Palmer!"

"Ohmygod _YESSS!_" Yuffie excitedly gesticulated, whooping all the way. She pumped both arms into the air and threw back her head, "Freaking FINALLY!"

"...Wha- No! Wait- _why_?" Tifa bluntly inquired, darting chastising glances at Yuffie and much more worrisome ones at Barret. "Wouldn't it make much more sense just going after Rufus since he'll _actually _be here?"

Barret kept up his pacing, circling around the lot of them while shrugging in a way that betrayed his helpless frustration at his next point. "I know, I know. I wanted to do that, but when ya consider it- its prob'bly not the best choice despite being the immediate one." He snorted contemptuously, "We both know if Rufus just up and kicked the bucket for gods know whatever reason, Miss _man _and the bearded jack-hole will take the company and do Gaia knows _what _with it. Rufus is a damn scumbag and all, but let's be real here-"

He jerked his enormous hills for shoulders again, "He's a little less violent than his goons. And he knows what he's doin' despite being a damn kid. Frankly, I'd rather stake my chances with a dude whose first choice in retaliation isn't major collateral damage on a grandiose scale. Scarlet and them _wanted _the Sector Seven plate to fall; and they'd do it again if they'd felt the need!"

Matching looks of shared disgust flared amidst every individual present; with Cait Sith in particular muttering "Ain't that the truth" as if to concrete their swirling aversion.

"Considerin' this," Barret grumped, "They'd cause a lot more damage to us and to the planet as a whole if we left 'em alive longer than necessary. They're destructive to a _fault_. But Rufus here- while I'd still feel more comfortable filling his guts with lead, I'd rather save him for last. If pressured, he shouldn't resort to their same extremes. Mebbe."

"But you're not entirely sure if that's the case..." Tifa shook her head.

Barret sighed, "Even so, what I said before still stands: Scarlet and Heidegger's too hot-headed to be saving for last. Rufus may or may not prove more dangerous-" He bumped his shoulders again, "But he's also a variable we're still tryin' to figure out. In this way, while we're huntin' Scarlet and Heidegger, we can gather some data on Rufus by watching how he retaliates to our probin'. Know what I mean? He's new to the gig anyhow; surely we can learn somethin' about 'em that'll prove useful?"

Red scratched behind his ear once, trying to shake off an irritating fly buzzing on by. After resuming his more stoic demeanor, he hummed, "...Well, while I say I can't disagree with the idea of waiting to get Rufus, I think its also fair to say I'm still on the fence about this. Wouldn't he just appoint a vice president once he felt its required?"

"Dunno about that," Cloud began to wonder aloud. "I mean, his options are pretty fairly limited... he's the only person with the name 'Shinra' left, right?"

"I think so, yeah," Tifa replied with some certainty.

"Right," Cloud continued. "He also struck me as the kinda guy who wouldn't really appoint another V.P unless its an actual member of the family he could 'trust'. He's a distrusting hard-ass with a superiority complex. Right?"

"Yeah, exactly!" Barret boomed.

"Hm. Well, even if we did start pickin' 'em off one by one," Cloud supplied, not trying to start a fight for once- merely question the reasoning for it. "-Wouldn't he start catching on to what we're doing? He'll just get that much harder to target once we off one or two of 'em..."

Barret shook his head, "Rufus is a proud mofo, ain't he? He won't hide behind layers of meat shields and guards like a coward like Scarlet and them. He's out here, openly going after Sephiroth in the flesh like the damn foo' he is, ain't he?" At Cloud's nod, he even added, "-Awright then. 'Sides Spiky, didn't he engage you atop the Shinra tower the night his dad died? He isn't afraid to fight an ex-SOLDIER on his own. Rufus is a prideful lil' shit. I say we use that against him and bide our time! We can bait him out when we finally get to him!"

Cloud blinked several times in mild surprise, realizing the small amount of sense in these words. However, his gut still told him this plan may still be folly in some way or another.

_But let's be real here, _he wondered. _It doesn't matter what order we go in; the surviving heads will try to stop us with varying levels of violence anyways. No fucks be given, and no shits to be damned. We'll be met with risk of death, no matter what._

Suddenly, his electric blues arrested onto the antsy Aerith, watching the flower girl dip her head until her chin nearly touched her chest. Clearly, she was having trouble accepting this plan.

"You know, Aerith," Cloud told her. "You _do_ have a say in this... And you also don't have to keep coming along with us into these progressively riskier situations either. I'm not asking you to leave or nuthin'-" He went on to fold his arms. "-But if it bothers you so much, you could just sit it out here and there. Yunno what I mean?"

In answer, her hands wove into its opposite; fingers intertwining intimately into something like a prayer that's usually reflective of her inner disquiet. She shook her head, ribbon bouncing playfully in the passing zephyr. "...I know," she sighed. "But I'm going to keep coming along anyway. I can't just turn around and 'wait it out' after everything that's been said and done."

"...You sure?" He pressed.

She hummed an affirmative, her eyes locking onto Cloud's with a diamond-tine hardness glinting like polished razor-heads. She said with creeping solidity, "-You're not going to convince to me leave either- Not after all this time. I'm going to help you fight Shinra in some way or another." She drew in a steadying breath, "-Don't get me wrong, I won't kill anyone- I _refuse _to do anything like that. But I'll remain here to be your support in whatever capacity I can. Besides-"

Her face flickered in its firmness before resetting, "-Shinra's done so _much_... they subjugated enough children to their science department... drafted enough younger souls to their SOLDIER and Turk training programs... threatened enough families into silence... _Erased _enough villages out of existence-" _And taken away any sense of normality in my life, _Cloud had half-expected her to say; but of course, she didn't put voice to. Instead, her viridian gaze soured briefly; betraying a hint of the helpless frustration she'd no doubt buried time and time again. The expression didn't last though; as the emotion wasn't something that's natural or innate to her.

"...I'm tired of it," she eventually finished, looking very much like she had more to say. "While I detest the idea of fighting, it seems to be the only option we have left. And after what they've _personally _done to the people I love-" She shook her head, passing every individual a hard look, "-Just don't ask me to go home or to stay out of this again. _Please_. You don't need to worry about how I feel about it; because we all already know where I stand in this _exactly._"

Cloud worked his jaw and clammed it shut in abject surprise; astounded at the fact that she's voluntarily announcing all of this. Aerith usually kept her silence when it came to her personal contempt towards Shinra; never outwardly denouncing it in such an open manner- Its not like her resentment towards the company was unusual in any way; because honestly, it _wasn't_. But this very proclamation- to actually hear her verbally speak aloud her _hatred _in the some way; a thing that just didn't meld with someone of her caliber, it concreted the brevity of their situation. It struck more chords within Cloud than an entire symphony of strings being plucked at all the best notes.

During this little speech, her beryl eyes filmed with unshed vexation that isn't natural to her blithe character- And its something that made Cloud feel like he insulted her in some way. With that being said, he couldn't help wondering if their conversation from last night may have rendered her usually reticent reasons so blunt. All this talk was certainly taking away any and all reasons for convincing Aerith to return to Elmyra; had that been Cloud's actual intention. Still, he couldn't help moving his own down-trodden gaze to the grass beneath him; feeling very much like the antagonist here. He didn't want to make Aerith feel like she didn't belong here.

_Of course she belongs here. She's better here with us than anywhere else, _he wanted to say but just couldn't muster the right words.

Just then, just before he could find the words to apologize, Cloud watched Tifa reach out to the flower merchant with velvety care in her every motion. One hand brushed lovingly down her scalp as she would for Marlene, standing close beside her. Tifa smiled that smirk that's usually meant for more familial connections; while somehow making it not a pity smile in the process. Aerith didn't want pity after all; she's just wasn't someone who accepted it.

"Then... we won't ask you to sit out," she said while swiftly passing Cloud the most subtle glance ever- one that he couldn't really decipher that well. "-And personally, after what we've all been through, I don't think any of us here would ever ask you to do that."

Cloud hummed an affirmative, doing his best to look as understanding as possible.

Aerith only smiled; but somehow, the motion looked strained. "...I know," she muttered rather lowly. "I still kinda felt like I needed to make that clear anyways. Saying all that helped me feel like I aired something out, if just a little bit." She bobbed her slight shoulders, her expression dipping into a diminutive frown, "...Ever since Gongaga, or even before we left Midgar, I felt constricted in a way that's too tight... that's too claustrophobic, despite being free to roam the world. Even though I didn't walk with shackles, I still bolted down."

Everyone's expressions darkened at that, fully understanding the weight of her words.

Her gaze had darkened marginally more before brightening back to its more familiar, demure glow. She looked off to the side, "I can't run from a fight- seeing how danger loves the company. Its the story of my life," she huffed. "If nothing else, I had to concrete the request of not having to hear anyone ask me to 'stay out of danger' again. Its just a waste a breath." She cocked her head a bit while intertwining both hands at the front, "-As for my input on Barret's plan, well... while don't I like it, I also don't see another course of action that seems feasible for us." Her eyes fell to the ground, "-Not that I'm some strategic expert."

Nanaki padded over and bumped his head against her thigh like a domestic house-cat affectionately trying to cheer its owner. "For what its worth," he said. "-Your words are sound. I think its fair to say I should be thanking you for being so abundantly clear and honest to us all. Its something we _all_ needed to hear."

Aerith reached down and stroked along his mane briefly, her smile steadily more sincere. "And thank you for understanding," she graciously reciprocated.

"Awright then!" Barret eagerly pumped up his flesh arm and grinned. "So everyone here in agreement?"

No one raised their voice to be heard; all those present sharing the same grim mask as they silently answered Barret's query.

"-'Kay then," Barret said in a steadily lower voice, all of his boisterous energy suddenly siphoned from him as he took in their matching expressions. "I guess we'll be going after Palmer then."

"And before we do anything like that-" Cait Sith just then ejaculated. "How about we stock up on supplies _before-hand_? I'd like to make sure we all have what we need before running for our lives from the only viable town miles around."

"He's got a point," Yuffie shrugged.

Cloud nodded, folding his arms next, "Right. So how about we split into two teams to gather info and resources faster, as well as reduce the chances of gettin' detected?"

Barret grumped an affirmative, with no signs of protest to be seen. He'd usually bicker or quibble with Cloud just for shits-and-giggles sometimes; but it seemed today was the exception. Weirdly enough, it really did seem like its the day the two men saw eye-to-eye with one another.

_Welp, _Cloud thought with bitter humor. _I guess Hell just froze over; cuz I never thought I'd see the day me and Barret can so passively agree on something after the last few days had been so shitty._

"Alright," Cloud shrugged while turning to face the town ahead. "Let's mosey."

He heard a small round of giggles behind him at these words, but he shrugged it off anyways. If the strange word selection long-since borrowed from his late mother made his only friends break their grimmest facade, that was a win within itself. If nothing else, Cloud couldn't help baring the smallest of smiles himself, keeping his shoulders squared and posture proud as he led the troupe to their next destination. For once, he felt like he was actually moving _towards_ something; and that couldn't have cheered him more.

_Still, _he frowned. _Its not like Sephiroth's been forgotten. If anything, leaving Rufus alive could help us find him quicker. Rufus is smarter than those pinheads he calls his cronies; and Barret knows this._

He tossed the larger man a subtle glance over his shoulder, and then relocated his gaze back to the path ahead before the other took notice. Cloud couldn't help the smallest chuckle at his next thought._ If Barret's deliberately leaving Rufus alive for this reason, I guess I'll have to thank him, _he harrumphed. _Or punch him; depending on whether or not he's trying to keep me around just to help him fight Shinra. I told him I wasn't interested in helping AVALANCHE before, but... now I'm just a little too invested in this Zack biz just to turn back now._

He saw Tifa keeping pace beside him, the woman looking rather militantly focused on their next goal. From the corner of his peripherals, Cloud watched her with rapt attentions; taking in the details of her determined facade.

_...That, and Tifa would never again be happy if Shinra continued to thrive. Even if we did find Sephiroth and take him down first, she wouldn't rest or give up after what we've been through in Midgar. _He sighed, _After all, its __**their **__fault that Sephiroth and Nibelheim and Zack's respective fates happened they way it did. All of them- all tied to Shinra._

_And I'm willing to bet my memory's tied to it too._

Cloud's fists clenched reflexively, feeling his blood sing in his veins as he continued forward. _Oh _yeah, he knew Shinra's going to have to face their demons sometime; and he intended on that day being _MUCH _sooner, rather than later.

After all, his promise to be not just Tifa's shield, but _theirs _came first.

* * *

~777~

None of AVALANCHE had known it, but Cait Sith had been sure to turn in any new developments to Zack and the rest- including the new plan to target the Shinra heads themselves. He had a _very _tiny window in which he could've managed it; but manage it he did.

Last night, when Cissnei had gotten a message at two in the morning from Cait Sith regarding their status update, she'd been right in thinking Cloud was having another (albeit small) attack- _Especially_ since she'd noticed Zack had reacted similarly. The pain had been barbed but brief; ending only when Zack had assured them with a straight face that he'd felt alright as soon as it passed. He'd been coated in sweat and shook like a leaf for a minute there-after; but managed to recover well.

_"...Maybe-" Cissnei had said then; checking Zack's vitals just as Hendel would. This annoyed him to some extent, but he didn't say anything in protest as she went on with her ministrations, "-We just may prove you can actually feel some of Cloud's pain __**yet**__. It still makes me wonder though..." She huffed here, "I wonder if Hojo did more than what we saw on those papers-?"_

_Zack snorted, his eyes narrowed slits that could snap-freeze the blood in any other lesser being than the two in front of him. Through a clenched jaw he bitterly commented, "Yeah, well... What else could he have possibly done to make this any worse? Besides the four-year imprisonment and genetic experimentation..."_

_Cissnei darted Vincent a side-longs glance as an answer; the latter in question folding his arms as if to remind Zack of his current predicament._

_This being said, the ex-SOLDIER clucked his tongue and said, "Yunno what? __**Don't **__answer that. Forget I even asked."_

That being said, the trio had learned that Aerith was interested in getting a hold of the Turks; she and Cloud _both_. Apparently, Cloud seemed to have remembered something of his relationship with Zack; and the pair were _very _interested in finding the ex-SOLDIER on top of it. This news alarmed them initially; leaving Zack feeling just a little increasingly anxious about his role as Garm Sturges the Turk Trainee.

Inwardly though, he still couldn't help feeling intrusively _happy _that his friends showed signs of wanting to see him again. In a way, this development made Zack feel a little better about his predicament; even though its something he didn't dare say aloud. For him, it meant that Cloud, despite his self-inflicted amnesia, felt that his bond to Zack _still _means something to him. It transcended his current limitations; despite what little he could recall.

Sure, its a cheesy realization; but a satisfying milestone within itself. However, it also meant that Cloud had been _hugely _traumatized by his experience in the wastes; and its something Zack couldn't help feeling guilty for. Even though Hojo and a giant fucking army (courtesy of Scarlet) was off-handedly responsible for it, Zack still felt like he's the direct source of Cloud's current problems. How could he have known Cloud would've taken his words so _**seriously**_?

_And to this severe extent_, he couldn't help despairingly concluding. _I should've told him somethin' different, but... What else __**could **__I tell him when I thought I'd buy the farm? What, 'be strong' and 'smile a lot'? UGH. Yeah right. I don't think I coulda chosen much better words, _He couldn't help pondering.

Still, the fact that he'd elected **this** as a coping mechanism in response to Zack's demise couldn't be _more _disconcerting- It told Zack just how much Cloud had admired and looked up to him; just how much he wanted to be more _like_ Zack. It showed in his daily mannerisms; and its something Zack hadn't really noticed until he'd truly scrutinized the baffling behavior more recently. To tangibly see the effect his image has casted onto Cloud filled Zack with with varying levels of intertwining concern and dread equally.

For all he knew, he could've looked a lot like how Cloud does now during his time mourning Angeal some years back. The picture Cloud painted was pretty clear there. To be really honest though, Zack hadn't exactly _gracefully _accepted Angeal's death for the first few weeks after his passing. It took Zack more than month or so finally stop sniveling over it- and almost a full year to finish letting it sink in. And even after that, he diligently adopted some of Angeal's own mannerisms in-turn.

_So I guess the dumb-apple doesn't fall far from the tree, _he couldn't help thinking as he realized Cloud had 'inherited' a lot of the same traits Zack did.

Still, this development made Zack wonder if he'd ever be allowed to show his face to Cloud again without freaking him out or breaking him _more _somehow. It seemed quite probable the more Zack thought about it. If nothing else, this knowledge merely solidified his reasons for retaining his disguise- not that it made him feel any better about it.

For now, the trio hung around the outer edges of Rocket town, reviewing their new mission specs for today: One was to keep a bead on all members of AVALANCHE at all times, and to not get caught-out alone by any of them. Two was to generally stay out of conflict; and to make sure Cloud and Aerith _especially _don't do anything reckless. Three: If this comes to pass, don't engage in combat; if possible. Merely incapacitate them and haul them back to the rest of of AVALANCHE without detection. If Cloud had a fit that proves life-endangering, take him directly to Hendel in Midgar. And lastly; when in doubt, have Vincent handle the rest.

With all this being laid out, Zack knew better than to try his luck; seeing as last night proved that he indeed wasn't getting any better. Hendel had concreted that the J-Cell presence in his body was inhibiting healing somehow. The mako vials and the rest of his meds helped thankfully, but it wasn't enough to assure Zack's safety should complications continue to crop up.

_"You already know your fight with Cloud and your general stress levels had impacted healing," He'd said in a tone that's already filling Zack's gut with molten lead. "And, as you also know, what's __**really **__the source of your continued lapses is the raw J-cells still lingering in your body. And while SOLDIER has usually been given these 'enhancements' of a similar nature in the past, its never to __**this **__degree."_

_His face scrunched up, noodle arms wrapped around his thin build like spaghetti noodles on a fork. "SOLDIER was always given not only smaller amounts of what Hojo's given you and Cloud, but 'deadened' versions of it- kinda like a flu shot," he clarified. "What Hojo gave you and Cloud though was a metric SHIT-TON of raw, freshly cultivated cells that hadn't been dumbed down-"_

_"And that's what's doing this?" Zack queried. When Hendel nodded, he couldn't help asking, "So... what can I do to shake this off? Isn't there anything else you can do? That __**I **__could do-?"_

Zack hadn't liked the following answer, to say the least. Even now, he still couldn't help glaring at the path ahead of him as he recalled the man's next troubling response.

_"Honestly? I think we need to wait it out some more," Hendel heaved in a beleaguered, defeated way. "I've done everything I could to try to help; including mako showers and prescribed vials with stronger doses. At this point, your body hasn't finished acclimating to their presence; and its trying to reject and attack the cells in a destabilizing, somewhat cannibalistic way."_

_Zack blinked, resting an arm on a raised leg while the other dangled from his bed. "Explain," he clipped, feeling strangely disjointed and disconnected from his own body._

_"Again, its like when you get a cold: You feel miserable not because of the bug itself, but because of your body's immune response to it," Hendel gesticulated. "It tries to over-compensate; but due to the resilient nature of the cells themselves, your body ends up in a long, heavily dragged-out war with __**itself **__in the process. You're stressed and tired a lot more often; you have no energy or interest, and whatever other side-effects you experience from even __**dead **__J-cells is now cranked to a full TEN. Whatever was treatable before with a simple training routine, apt bed-rest, and mako vials now requires a lot more extensive monitoring than ever before."_

_The doc's eyes went into a worried slant, his gaze softer, "-Which is why I can't emphasize __**enough**__ just how much you need to take it easy. While I understand that Cloud's worse off in some ways, in others, he's still managing better than you. Its kind of strange, really." He lifted a contemplative hand to his chin and held it there, moving his other one behind his back as he leaned against the counter. _

_After a minute spent sitting there reflecting on what he just said, he then added, "Anyways, I suppose I understand why you can't just lie back and wait to recover- Because that within itself could take you another half a year or so to finish recovery; even in a sedentary lifestyle. You never had a proper chance to relax since you were first brought in from the wastes."_

_Zack winced at this; feeling truly weighted by what Hojo has wrought._

_"It didn't help that you spent the better part of a year moving around the world," Hendel reminded him. "So even if you gave up on Tseng's ludicrous mission now, you'd need at least that, and the normal month and a half to finish healing off the Traumatic Pneuthorax itself. You'd be bed-ridden a whole lot longer than however long I had you in for originally."_

With that being said, it seemed today was an especially annoying day for Zack; as it seemed to reflect and prove the doc's words:

This morning, other than waking up with the reminder of last night's mini-attack and subsequent news regarding Cloud's new choice in targets, Zack woke with an irritating headache that made seeing _difficult_. His vision swung around like he was drunker than a Nibelheim skunk after a few pints of fermented cactuar juice. And a few hours later, after the meds _finally _started to work and his sight righted itself, he felt that oppressive heaviness in his chest again; and it left his breathing ragged sometimes.

And the really annoying part to his whole ordeal? It seemed that Zack would generally feel okay most days; but the days he felt his worst was in the after-math of an attack- and it seems to happen most consistently whenever Cloud's flared up. It didn't matter if it only happened once or twice or even three times; because that's exactly the amount of times Zack had felt so bad- That, and after his fight with Cloud in Runen. It always happens when _Cloud's _involved; and he couldn't help wondering if Cissnei's earlier worries were founded in that.

Vincent and Cissnei meanwhile both threw him matched looks; with the latter eventually going on to ask if Zack was even up for today. "...Maybe you should just go back to the helicopter and get a little nap," Cissnei offered. "Me and Vincent can cover things here."

Zack furiously shook his head- something he immediately regretted when his forehead pulsed; the throbbing most profound behind the eyes. _Migraine Hell today_, was his following thought. "No," He firmly asserted, his voice taking a deeper tonal shift through his respirator. "I'm fine enough to watch 'em. That's all we're doing, right?"

Cissnei turned and folded her arms, having a rather odd resemblance to Zack's mother when he got into trouble as a kid. Her nose wrinkled, caramel-russet brows resting heavily on cool amber pools. If he had to best describe the expression on her face, it had a mild "You should know better" look to it.

At this, Zack straightened his posture and brushed off her stern expression with a callous shrug. "Look, Sis. AVALANCHE is in two separate groups, right? We need all three sets of our eyes on both parties." He folded his arms next, "For all we know, they could separate into marginally smaller groups of two or even single individuals to help continually minimize chances of detection. I wouldn't put it past 'em, frankly."

Cissnei's frown remained, "Even so, you can't work at your best if your attention is arrested on trying to keep yourself _upright_. Moreover-" She matched Zack's current sassy posture with one of her own, hissing through her teeth, "AVALANCHE came here looking for not just a fight, but the Turks as well; and that includes _**you **_on top of all _that_!" She huffed resignedly, "...Which is a _huge _problem. I'm going to have to ask Tseng how they ever came to that assumption..."

Vincent grunted in mild agreement, his gaze hooded.

"In the meantime," she went on. "We can't have you here if you can't focus on anything that isn't cloaking; as the spell within itself is exhaustive. If a fight were to go down, I can only imagine your current state would be more a hindrance than anything."

_"You need to take it easy," _rang Hendel's words around his head.

Zack huffed, feeling mildly insulted but also a little apprehensive of the fact that Cissnei was indeed correct. He promised both she and the doc (and Kunsel) that he'd do better; but somehow, he just knew _today _wasn't going to work out without his help. Its bad enough that Cloud's party had decided on some rather drastic measures; and he knew it'll reap some serious consequences that Zack just _couldn't _sit out of.

He proudly straightened his posture and sighed; firmly deciding that getting over-excited wasn't going to make the girl relent. Instead, he tried in a sterner, but steadily lower timbre betraying his innate worry and understanding, "I know you're worried but... We talked about this. You know damn well I have more than enough energy to manage today. I can tough it out!" He ebulliently raised a fist at roughly eye-level; the effects of his obscured grin making his eyes crinkle at the corners. He hoped the gesture came off as confident and natural as possible; even though its more a show than anything.

He lowered his fist and shrugged, "-'Sides, we both know none of us can afford to stay out of this. AVALANCHE picking this shitty way of dealing with their problems only complicated our position. I literally don't see any choice in me leaving you guys to it." He raised his hands in a submissive way, "Not that I'm saying you guys can't handle it or anything."

Cissnei's expression noticeably fell; and its something that told Zack that she was accepting the fact that he was correct in this instance- Although saying she didn't like this couldn't be more of an understatement.

He then said in a way to help alleviate her worry, "If its any consolation, I took my meds this morning, and I'm telling you that I'll be fine once _all _of them start kickin' in." He strode past her, moving just ahead of their party before stopping to give the girl another once-over. "-And its like I told you before, back in Midgar," he shook his head with a long breath following it. "-I just can't stand idly by knowing the people I call my friends are willingly throwing themselves to the dogs here. I'm gonna make sure they stay safe, no matter how I feel. Even _you_ said that's more important than anything else right now."

_For Cloud. For Aerith. For them._

Cissnei's jaw flapped once, and then clammed shut with an audible _snap. _Just as she was about to say something however, Vincent's hand shot out in front of her; the elder man's ancient eyes effectively ensnaring her own.

"There's no point in arguing against him," he began wisely. "You and I both know that he's right. Besides, even if he did supposedly take your advice to sit this out, he'd only throw himself back out there as soon as he felt it needed." He shook his head at her, "If you at least let him stay with me, I can keep an eye on him. You don't have to worry about Garm's condition neither: Keep in mind, I'd be able to remove him from a situation if it gets too dangerous."

Cissnei's lips thinned to a razor's point; but her pinched expression did relent somewhat. "You sure?" she went on to ask in a low murmur.

He nodded, "...Believe me. I'll be more than enough for our capricious friend here. As it is, I think I'd have to defer to Garm's judgement here too; seeing as he wasn't wrong in saying that the more eyes on our targets we have, the better. Our goal is to stay _out _of combat anyways. Right?"

"...Yeah," she finally bit. "I guess so."

"Alright then. Now," Vincent then straightened to his fullest height. He looked between the both of them, "While I understand that its probably not the most prudent decision, its the only one we can employ during this sensitive stage. All things considered, we should separate into two groups ourselves." He nodded to Cissnei, "You can follow Barret's resource team. Alone, you'd be able to mask your presence more easily from their more numerous eyes and their quadrupedal friend's nose. He'd be more likely to pick up on Garm's distressed, mako-charged sweat-scented presence than yours anyways."

Zack was about to contradict Vincent here, but found that the other man's words just might be correct. Although, he still couldn't help intrusively wondering how Vincent would know what he smelled like.

_Wait. How strong IS his sense of smell? Or any of his abilities in general? _He couldn't help wondering. _And seriously, do I stink THAT much?_

When he figured Vincent and Cissnei's attention were firmly stuck on the other, Zack lowered his mask and lifted the collar of his shirt underneath the hood. He did the briefest whiff; and found that indeed, the stupid humidity of the day had contributed to his literally feeling hot under the collar. He was already sweating his balls off; but he'd been so distracted with their current troubles that he'd failed to notice.

_Yup, _he thought with a grimace, pulling his mask back in place._ I need to __**definitely** stay away from that red cat thing. And get a shower after we're done here._

"As for me and Garm," Vincent coolly went on. "The two of us combined will be more than enough to handle a rough enough situation; should Cloud get into one. We can keep behind his team and watch him from afar. If they go to kill Palmer-" His carmine-colored eyes flashed, "-Which seems likely, you and Garm here would be subjugated to ultimatums: Said ultimatum being your two, conflicting jobs clashing with each other."

"...What do you mean?" She asked with some trace amounts of an dubious inflection.

He held up one hand with his middle and index fingers physically indicating his next words, "Should Cloud attack Palmer, you'd be forced to enact on your job as a Turk to protect the latter; but it also forces Zack in a difficult position in-turn: He'd be forced to either defend you _from_ Cloud while he's attacking Palmer; or to pull you out of the situation entirely and ultimately forfeit Palmer's life in exchange- Either way, Palmer is meat."

Zack smirked, _Wow Vince. What a nice way of wording it._

Vincent's eyes narrowed as he went on, "This only continues to expose Zack's true nature to AVALANCHE; and when they see he isn't defending an important Shinra employee as expected, they'll certainly _know _he isn't a trainee. Not only that- but once Palmer's death is reported and they know that the both of you were seen here, well... you don't need me to tell you what'll happen once you got back to Headquarters."

Cissnei's expression immediately paled at this, her eyes falling to the ground beneath her. Zack couldn't help looking away himself, feeling antsy about this whole hypothetical scenario.

"So, its either you go with Zack and be unable to not only physically restrain him and risk being a hindrance to him; as well as risking his exposure in the process-" Vincent shook his head like a parent tutting their child, lowering his middle finger to indicate his next point, "-Or you can simply allow me to go with him instead; someone who could restrain him and keep up with him; who has no strings or attachment to anything or anyone in this assignment- who has no bias in whatever hard decision has to be made. No one knows me, and even if AVALANCHE does see me alone, they'd probably think me as an interested party in Shinra's destruction. Its not _that _strange to come across a stranger who hates them, yes?"

Cissnei tapped her foot once, her gaze contemplative.

"That being said, its best you stay away from Palmer, little sister," the man went on to say, his last two words surprising his companions. "You can't do Septimus' work if you're being a proper Turk as well."

"I..." Cissnei began but couldn't finish as she identified the smallest hints of concern in his usually meticulously chosen words. She was speechless, to say the least.

Despite this humbled reaction, Vincent's eyes then flashed to Zack, "And while I understand that having Garm, exhausted as he is, so close to Cloud and Aerith while they're actively searching for him isn't a very wise idea, we _all _know Garm wouldn't willingly expose himself to them. If I'm not mistaken-" He folded his arms as his eyes roved Zack's slouched form. "You said you have just enough endurance to help carry you through today anyways, right-?"

Zack huffed in agreement, his gaze softening somewhat. "As long as we don't wind end up in any _huge_ fights, sure," he tried to concrete to not only Vincent, but to their smaller companion as well. His brows fell heavily, "Didn't I tell ya I'd stay out of fights more? I promise I won't intervene if I think Cloud can handle it on his own. And its not like the guy's helpless anyways! When he's not having a mental break-down, he's pretty freakin' tough."

Zack grinned earnestly at these last words, knowing that he would have more confidence in the younger man if it wasn't for the J-cell's effects. Its not like his words were unfounded though; seeing as Cloud managed to get this far without any true help on Zack's part. All _he_ did was take some blood and help deal the final blow to that monster on the ship. Truly, Zack didn't think Cloud needed him much anymore if it wasn't for the unusual circumstances they found themselves in.

_Technically, I don't have to do any of the hard-work. I'm just watching, _he figured.

Cissnei's expression still continued to retain its cynical mask however, but she said nothing to this. She eventually sighed, and then reluctantly nodded. "Yeah... Okay," she breathed; presumably seeing the sense before her. "I guess that's fine."

Zack went and bumped her lightly with his elbow, trying to get her wandering stare arrested onto his own. "You don't hafta worry so much. I'll have Vince with me," he tried to alleviate her lingering woes with his greatest weapon ever; easy-going charisma and puppy-dog eyes. His smile lifted his cheeks enough so that it can be seen regardless of his mask; and its a gesture he hoped sufficed.

At this, the girl chuckled uncertainly; and its a victory that Zack couldn't help inwardly fist-pumping over. He knew he'd gotten through somewhere at the sight of her microscopic smile. "I know... its just-" She shook her head, arms flopping to her sides. "It just feels like every time I take my eyes off of you two, you _both _get into trouble..."

"That only happened _once_," Zack snorted half-heartedly, knowing she was referring back to that battle in Runen. "And it worked out in the end."

Vincent dipped his head respectfully, "Please keep in mind that that resulting fight was _my _fault; not Garm's. He had to pick up my slack once my shots missed or glanced off."

"And you both knew you should've _retreated_ if Cloud was alerted," Cissnei reminded him, although not unkindly.

Vincent sighed, the noise so weighty it made Zack himself feel even more fatigued just listening to it. "Be that as it may," he went on. "-It doesn't matter now. We need to get on with the job before Rufus shows up."

Cissnei closed her eyes; a sign that she was begrudgingly accepting the words laid out before her. "Alright," was her slow response, one hand darting to her brow before slipping slowly down her face. "Just promise me one thing..."

"Hm?" Vincent inclined his head.

"Don't let Cloud's team see Garm with you... _**at all**_-" She emphasized. "I don't think it'll matter if they caught sight of you _alone_, seeing as you're not dressed like Shinra. But if Cloud and Aerith caught you and Garm together, or saw you hauling Garm away for any reason, they'll suspect that Garm's not really a Turk. Its bad enough we can't dress him like one." Her expression darkened, "They may have _already _started to suspect that Garm isn't a real Turk, for all we know... But they don't need to see you two working together to help concrete it."

"It'll certainly raise questions..." Vincent nodded in affirmation.

"Not so many if **_you_ **actually dressed like a Turk," She offered. "But I know the facade would ultimately be redundant in the grand scheme of things."

"Uh... redundant how?" Zack went on to inquire, somewhat seeing some benefits of giving Vincent a passable uniform... and a modest hair-cut. Because really, Zack couldn't help feeling like Vince really _needed _one.

"Its hard to explain," Cissnei waved it off. "Believe me; Tseng and I discussed the idea but found that Vincent's current freedom is his best weapon. If he had to dress like us, he'd need a fake alias and be given orders to go places that aren't relevant to Project Septimus."

"But.. that seems like a little much. Can't you just throw Vincent a uniform when its just _us _and call it a day?" Zack offered.

Cissnei shook her head, "Eye-witnesses could catch Vincent with me; should he be seen with us at all. Rufus would start asking questions. There's that, and the fact he wouldn't need the cover for long. Its much easier to maneuver when he isn't being given commands by someone like Rufus or Scarlet." She tilted her head to side, waving dismissively, "Its hard enough trying to keep _you _covered as it is."

"Ah. Right," shrugged the ex-SOLDIER. "I guess that makes sense."

"Anyways, back to AVALANCHE," she continued to elaborate, her eyes going to Zack this time. "-If they've already started to suspect our actions and you're in a situation you can't escape, you _**do **_have permission to tell them that Tseng's interested in Cloud's physical condition. You can say he poses a legitimate danger to them thanks to Hojo's experimentation- which isn't an out-right lie." She raised another perfunctory hand, "At least this way we don't have to resort to telling them about the Septimus Project- seeing as Hojo's mention should be enough of an answer."

"So... uh," Zack blinked and scratched his head quizzically. "-If _all _else fails... are you saying we could-?"

"-Tell them about the Septimus project at all? Maybe," she confirmed. "Although, this scenario isn't a feasible or safe option."

Zack shook his head and then cocked it to the side, folding his arms in mild confusion.

The girl shrugged at him, her gaze even more hooded, "-AVALANCHE has already started to suspect that the Turks aren't behaving according to regulations; as they seem aware of the fact that we're behind _your _'disappearance'. They know you're not dead; and seeing as you're a former fugitive with some notable prestige in SOLDIER, any decent person would've expected us to successfully fulfill our orders to kill you-"

"But you didn't, and they know it," Vincent muttered next to her.

"Yes," she nodded. "And now, if they see you and Vince acting in their _defense _instead of the opposite; plus your combat expertise that they're already aware of, _and _with my poorly chosen words from the ship-" She winced at this; referring to her comment about the whole 'he isn't your enemy' thing back after their battle. "-They'll just put two and two together-" she finished lamely.

"-And they'll not only know that I'm alive..." Zack quickly concluded. "-But they'll guess that the Turks really aren't helping Shinra much anymore."

"Exactly," The girl shrugged helplessly. "And we can't have them giving that information to the wrong person by mistake; like to a Shinra mole. We've had enough moles in AVALANCHE before..."

"Like Cait Sith..." Zack added on. "Who'd let Reeve know that the Septimus Sect exists."

Cissnei hung her head, "...Yeah, but that's a given if Reeve chooses whether or not to give that information to Rufus; or blackmail _**us **_with it. Now we don't know if he would or wouldn't do this, and that's what Tseng's mission North is about-" She locked eyes with both of her companions here. "We're still trying to 'feel him out' before we expose any of the intentions of the Septimus Sect. After all, its inevitable that he'd eventually learned about us through Cait Sith and our interactions with AVALANCHE."

"...Huh," Zack felt his eyes fall to the ground in consideration of this.

"-Its the real reason why we can't tell them about you, yet," Cissnei continued. She then inclined her head, "We know AVALANCHE wouldn't willingly give away your existence otherwise. I think its fair to say we could've otherwise trusted Aerith or even Tifa with your survival... But, we also know that the less people know about you, the smaller the odds of getting discovered."

She then reminded him in grim ceremony, "...We also can't eliminate the possibility of Rufus capturing any one of them and potentially torturing them for the information. As it is, he'd no doubt target Aerith once he realizes its convenient enough for him." She also threw out there; much to Zack's discomfort, "Not only will it doom them, but all of _us_ in-turn-"

Zack suddenly jerked forward with an iron-clad resolution already set in place, mako-charged fury flashing menacingly beneath his goggles. He no longer felt exhausted as he perfectly pronounciated, "Rufus ain't gonna touch a _**single **_one of 'em." The unseen hair on the back of his neck bristled,"-I'll make _**sure **_of that."

"As I," Vincent mutually and conclusively agreed, his own cochineal gaze suddenly several shades darker.

Cissnei blinked, and then seemed to shake off whatever unsettling feeling that's come over her. "Yeesh. Shouldn't have added that last part... Anyways," she went on to say, moving a hand to the inside of her tux. She drew out and passed both men an ear-piece; a tiny transmitter Zack remembered using back on the freighter when his mission first began. "-Like what Vincent said, we need to get to work," she continued. "Be sure to keep me updated every few minutes; even if there's nothing going on. Capiche?"

Zack jerkily nodded, his features stiff and unfeeling beneath his disguise.

"One more thing," Cissnei suddenly added, making sure to capture her taller friend's azure gaze. "Don't forget you still have Shape-Shift as a contingency; should something happen to your mask and goggles. I know you don't have it mastered yet, but you should be able to hold the spell long enough to get your mask back... Right?"

Zack finished putting the ear-piece in; pulling his hood back into place. "Eh... yeah. I do," he assuredly reciprocated to finish allaying any of her lingering concerns. He didn't need her to continuously worry about his exhaustion today as it is.

This wasn't untrue; as a lot of Zack's earlier bad mood had stemmed from his constant use of Shape-Shift. He'd been hurriedly practicing with the spell ever since Cait's message about Cloud's episode in Nibelheim yesterday morning. Zack knew he shouldn't be using the finicky spell so often (_especially _after his attack), but he'd made some truly great strides in terms of progress. He can hold Kunsel's likeness for at least half-a-minute now; which was _immensely _difficult but an astounding feat within itself to have managed in less than twenty-four hours. At this, he couldn't help puffing out his chest; somewhat confident of his current use of the alien materia.

Cissnei eyed Zack, but nodded as she caught the conviction flashing within her compatriot's level gaze. "Okay then," she eventually conceded. "I'm trusting you _both_. That being said, make sure your transmitter is in proper working order. I tested it before we left the bird, but I wanna be sure. Also, give me your phone for a sec."

Puzzled, Zack nonetheless complied and watched Cissnei fiddle with it for a brief moment; observing as his screen lit up with three separate red dots in one spot and another single one somewhere off to the side.

"I just synced your phone," she quickly informed him as she handed it back. "You'll be able to track Vincent, me, and Cait Sith all at once."

"Okay, but... isn't your own phone's location turned off?"

"Its linked to our transmitters and Cait Sith's normal GPS signal," She confirmed.

"Ah. Gotcha."

"Alright then," she huffed with some small amount of apprehension. "Make sure you two stay out of any fights- especially _you, _Garm."

"Yes mom," He rolled his eyes, but the act wasn't meant to be insulting so much as it was exasperated.

Cissnei then walked up, stopping just shy of what's established to be her personal bubble. She grabbed Zack's arm and turned him to face her fully; the motion gentle. "More importantly," she said with an intimate eye-lock that kept her partner entranced. "I want **_you_** to stay safe. I know you've heard this enough times, but... I just can't emphasize it _enough_."

"Yeah, yeah... I know," he relented with a mighty whoosh of air; even though the gesture was more of a pain to perform nowadays. He dipped his head towards her, trying to betray with his eyes what couldn't be seen on the rest of his face. "The same goes to you," He replied in a weary, tired tone. "Odds are that the rest of AVALANCHE ain't gonna pass up a chance to catch you alone, should they see ya."

"They'd have to actually _find _me first," she coyly smirked, cheekily throwing in a wink for good measure.

Zack harrumphed good-naturedly, but his smile remained bitter beneath his respirator. He couldn't help feeling a little weary of the possibility; and therefore didn't want to jinx it. _I should be knockin' on some wood_, he couldn't help wondering as he uncertainly watched Cissnei walk away; her cloak spell magically leeching her of all form and definition.

Once he was sure Cissnei had gone, he turned to Vincent and carefully recited, "Eh... 'Little sister'-?"

The other merely shrugged, "She grows on you."

"Ah. So... its _not _a Turk thing?"

Vincent harrumphed in reply, but didn't exactly lend Zack a straight-laced answer. Instead, he dramatically flared his cape and rapidly spun on the ball of his heel in order to face the opposite direction. "Take it as you want," he replied in his typical growling monotone. He then added with no ceremony, "Come on. We have work to do,"

"That's not really an ans- Hey, wait a sec!" Zack zipped off after him, feeling rather miffed at the crude dismissal of the topic. "_You still haven't answered my question!_"

* * *

~777~

After a lot of Vincent dodging queries and a little scavenger hunt with no real fun in the 'hunting' part, finding Cloud's tiny team hadn't been hard at all.

When AVALANCHE had split into teams earlier, Cait took the reins with a cunning suggestion to have a feline in each. He'd be able to act as an extension to Cloud and Aerith's senses while Red acted as Barret, Tifa and Yuffie's. The latter two helped Barret with stocking up (Tifa was best at it) as well as information gathering (Yuffie's department); with Red acting as their guard.

Aerith was teamed with Cloud and Cait Sith, the stuffed moogle acting as a fourth member to their party; leveling the numbers an even four in both teams. In the meantime; seeing as it was her turn to watch the blond for any mysterious outbursts, Aerith had willingly placed herself on Cloud's team. The two women usually rotated positions in this way; with Aerith coming along more often than not so she can heal Cloud, should it happen.

The plus side to this? Cait's carefully proposed suggestion and GPS position meant that Zack can easily follow wherever Cloud went from his own phone; so long as Cait Sith remained with him. On the side, with Cloud and Aerith in the same place, it made Zack and Vincent's job as their personal shadow all the more easier. They could both keep their primary targets in one place.

_Gotta thank Reeve for making the Turks' job easier, _Zack couldn't help thinking; although he still couldn't help feeling mixed-up about it in all honesty.

For now, Zack and Vincent had stalked their quarry until they came upon a homey residence in particular; a place that served as a focal point of interest for AVALANCHE. It's a fairly large single-story house that's settled neatly in front of the Shinra number twenty-six rocket; the closest building to its proximity. It even had the tidy, unassuming rows of neatly trimmed hedges, leaf-blown path-ways, and cut grass to help add to the layer of _normal _to the place. If it wasn't for the huge amount of scrap metal, miscellaneous junk, and an _entire functioning bi-plane_ sitting in the unseen back-yard, you really wouldn't think the people living here were abnormal in any way.

With all that being said, Zack couldn't help wondering how Cloud hadn't thought to at least bring Tifa or Barret with him instead of Aerith. Aerith wasn't going to be much help in Barret's new plan to kill off the Shinra heads as it is; and she wasn't violent enough to take such actions neither. Its not to say she was weak or anything; because seriously, she _wasn't _when you consider her elevated spirituality and masterful use of materia. But to ask her to harm any living soul with powers like that is like asking Genesis to stop reciting Loveless-

It just. Doesn't. _WORK_.

There's that, and Cait Sith wouldn't be able to do much as it is; seeing as his stuffed body was easily breakable. He could be replaced, yes, but AVALANCHE would grow suspicious if a second Cait Sith showed up merely a day after the first's destruction. They'd start to suspect that the creature was crafted by Shinra hands; and that someone's making multiples of these as some sort of contingency alternative. To that end, Rufus would likely suspend the whole 'spying' idea and the Septimus Sect would lose a lot of their informational advantages.

_...They're probably just investigating the area for now_, Zack figured as he watched them from afar. _They're not going to get into any fights if they can help it. Maybe._

To add substance to that assumption, the group even had the benign appearance of fascinated tourists coming to see the rocket. Cloud had hidden his Buster Sword in the back-yard before returning to Aerith and Cait Sith. He wasn't even dressed in his SOLDIER garb anymore; wearing instead what's presumed to be his secondary set of clothes. Mainly, its an unassuming stained white tee and dark and baggy cargo pants; with no sign of weaponry on him. You'd only know he had materia if he actually used it.

As for his companions, Cait didn't have his moogle with him; as the ginormous toy was likely with the Buster sword. Aerith was now carrying the feline in her arms, wearing a complacently satisfied smile on her face like she's living out one of her most treasured desires to simply hold a cat. That being said, Zack couldn't remember why Aerith never adopted any strays living around her house, but figured she could be allergic to them. He felt a little frustrated about being unable to recall if this was true in any way, but he forcibly set the intrusive memory aside.

For right now, she was still dressed in her usual pink clothes; albeit said clothes had some signs of wear and tear in them. Despite having obviously tried taking better care of them, she'd have to change them out soon. If it wasn't for her taking care in mending any holes or replacing smaller articles with cheaper solutions, she'd look a little hilarious in a dress with a half-dozen holes in it. Zack inwardly swore to buy her any new dress she'd ever want when this was all over.

_She's __**still **__wearing that specific, pink dress, _he'd noticed. _And she's so dedicatedly keeping it on, no matter where she goes or what she does. Surely, its not just for __**me**__, is it...?_

Zack didn't want to get his hopes up, but his heart still couldn't help its frantically excited leaping as he considered the possibility. Its already been presumed that Aerith knew that he was alive and well; and that she and Cloud were looking for him. So maybe, _just _maybe, she really **_was_** keeping this grody dress on just for Zack.

The suddenly intrusive desire to shove a fist in his mouth just to stop the need to cry overcame him, but his mask remained persistently in the way; a palpable reminder of his needing to keep his head screwed on. That being said, he forcibly returned his attention to Cloud; desperately needing to concentrate on something else. He pursed his lip as he eyed the smaller man, feeling his gut tighten with unease.

_He's not looking for any fights, but... _he quickly deduced._ That doesn't mean he'll stay out of them. And if something __**did **__happen, I'd suspect Cait has the rest of AVALANCHE on speed dial- and the others would come running in just a beat. Right? _

"Yo Cissnei," He went on to ask to finish confirming what he already suspected. "What's their position now?"

Her response was thankfully immediate, _"-Barret and Red are within immediate visual range; purchasing some dried foods and goods. I don't think Red can smell me right now; whatever Barret's holding seems to be distracting him." _A pause, and then, _"Tifa and Yuffie are inside a general store across the street. I think they're buying some spare clothes or sleeping mats...?" _He heard a grumbling noise that was either general interference or her accidentally bumping the ear-piece. She then said, _"Nope, scratch that. Its a tent. How about you?"_

"Cloud's dressed like a normal civie," Zack told her. "His sword's nowhere in sight. I don't think he's tying to get into any trouble yet."

_"A good sign," _He heard his partner mutter under her breath. _"And Aerith is still with him?"_

"Yup. She's holding the cat and- huh," Zack narrowed his eyes as he watched them knock on the door. A cute woman in glasses had answered, her mousy brown hair barely tamed by a sunshine-bright yellow scrunchie and over-sized clothes draping over her willowy body. She had a tired look to her, but with a slightly and cautiously excited face that could easily brighten in its entirety if she just smiled earnestly. Zack could easily put her on one of his 'hot book nerd' lists; something he used to jokingly skirt around before he met Aerith.

_She's definitely Kunsel's type, _Zack chuckled to himself, having remembered some of the silly and childish things the two used to banter about back in Zack's second and third class days. _Gonna have to get some proper bro time with him when this job is done._

_"What? What's going on?"_

"Huh? Oh uh, looks like miss uh... Shera-? I think that's her that just answered the door," Zack went on to describe. "...She's inviting them in. I wonder what for?"

_"Keep on them. Maneuver to where you can see into the home, and then relay current position to Vincent. Be careful of Cid especially," _Cissnei went on to warn him. _"He may or may not notice your presence."_

"What, does he have some sorta combat sense or enhancements or something of the caliber?" Zack blinked quizzically, distinctly recalling that the man was supposed to be a mechanical genius that's never seen any kind of military training.

_"No, but he's uh... He's just... He's pretty observant, and __**really**__ hot-headed," _she offered. She then added with some evident doubt, _"-And I think he may have some fire-arms in his house lying around somewhere-?"_

"I- Woah, what-? Wait- you're _serious_?"

_"I think its just a hobby of his or something... besides his tinkering," _he could imagine her shrugging at the other end. _"-He likes taking things apart and putting them back together again. Figured you should know. Anyways, just stay on your toes. Rufus is supposed to be coming here to talk to Cid, so... Make sure you're ready to move at __**all **__times."_

"Uh... Roger that," Zack muttered as he quietly slinked from one side of the house to the other. He circled its vicinity _VERY _carefully; trying to locate the position of Cait's mog toy in the back-yard. Once he found it sitting idle behind what's presumed to be Cid's work-shed, Zack angled himself to a corner of the yard fairly close to the kitchen window. He didn't see Cid immediately, but he didn't have to wait long to catch sight of him-

Or rather, _hear_ him.

"SIT DOWN AND DRINK YOUR GOD-DAMN TEA!"

Not a moment after settling, Zack couldn't help flinching violently when he heard the raucous, stentorian bellow that thundered from the house; effectively scaring Zack shit-less. Not more than a few seconds later, the man himself marched out the house with an inglorious _BAM _and swaggered over to the plane; the door slamming shut behind him like a grand herald.

_Holy fucking shit. Scream much? _Zack huffed contemptuously, immediately knowing from just a single, cursory glance that he was looking at the reputable Cid Highwind himself.

This high-energy man was clearly older than Zack; maybe even Angeal's age if the few lines on his perpetually notched brow indicated anything about his age. He had dirty blond hair that wasn't nearly half as vibrant as Cloud's. He also had a stylish set of aviator goggles (that Zack admittedly liked) around his head, with a cigarette pack tucked neatly into it. His expression was currently reflective as he surveyed his plane, as if debating what more he could do to tune it. He had a leg tapping at a speed that displayed some inherent nervousness, despite the outward calm on his face.

Gloved hands wandered to his chin and hip, the articles worn but new enough to not have any holes in them. And while the gloves were dirty, the rest of Cid's rather strangely pristine appearance was nearly Turk-level immaculate: His face was clean-shaven, his heavy navy flight coat was likely fresh from the dryer, his pilot's scarf recently pressed with pride around his neck, his khaki-colored cargo pants casual and spotless. The only really dirty thing on this man's person was probably his work gloves and boots; with the latter looking to be recently polished and well-kempt as well.

_He's expecting Rufus will reopen the program, _Zack suddenly and intrusively realized as he eyed him. He couldn't help feeling bad though; having heard from Tseng just before departing from Midgar that the Space program will certainly be closed after today. _His dreams are about to get violently shot down_, he couldn't help thinking next.

Zack subtly put as much distance between himself and this man as possible; noticing that Cait Sith's mog was doing the same by hunkering down into a mess of tangled steel frames and pieces behind the work-shed. The toy held the Buster sword; but couldn't do much to lift it without making noise. The iron rods and metal sheets did enough to camouflage the sword though; so it really didn't need do anything so long as Cid didn't have to go behind his shed for any reason.

After he got some apt distance between Cid and himself, Zack informed Vincent in a hushed whisper of his new position. While keeping his eyes on Cid (who had decided on engine inspection), Zack pulled out his phone; deciding to use its tracker to help him estimate how long it would take for the rest of AVALANCHE to show up if things went south. He noted his partner's current position and extrapolated that Barret's estimated placement was just a pixel or two away from Cissnei's dot. That being said, he noted that the street this General store was on was only a block or so over. Zack could easily imagine that Barret's team could practically skip on over here if Cloud got into a scrap. If nothing else, they were almost within yelling distance to each other.

_They're staying awfully close to him, _he surmised. _Maybe they're aware of Cloud's condition too- ? I guess that also means they can intervene at any moment, right? Me and Vince won't have to do much. I should find this relieving but... why can't I shake this dreadful feeling?_

On the side, Cissnei's main GPS location had to be turned off on her phone; seeing as Shinra could track her down here and ultimately 'fire' her if they see Palmer died on her watch. _Moreover, Shinra doesn't know Tseng sent her here, _Zack frowned. _If I'm remembering it correctly, they think she got deployed to Kalm to watch Elmyra, right?_

So yeah, Cissnei being here in Rocket Town was a _**big **_no-no. She couldn't even be _glimpsed_ here at all. Zack knew he wouldn't _EVER _forgive himself if Cissnei got caught because of some reckless, idiot thing he didn't think through. In hind-sight, he was pretty glad he had Vincent here to help him check his impulses.

_...I can't believe I'm saying this, but I really do hope __**nothing happens**__, _He couldn't help sighing. _For the love of all things good... Please Minerva, if you're hearing me, DON'T let anything exciting happen for once._

Zack's eyes wandered back to Cid, checking to see if the man had noticed any changes to his environment. Thankfully, it seemed the promise of Rufus' arrival was keeping him distracted to the point of apprehensive pacing. Cid was doing whatever he could to tinker with an already properly well-oiled machine; the plane truly receptive to whatever detail-oriented care he put into it.

_Well look at who knows how to pleasure his lady, _Zack couldn't help comedically thinking as he noticed the affectionate love Cid put into his final touches.

Figuring himself safe for another few minutes, Zack once again arrested his flighty attention onto Cloud in particular; taking note of his slightly energetic body language. He seemed to be putting up a confident front; if Aerith and Shera's vaguely amused expressions were anything to go by. He ended up remembering Cissnei's alternative orders from Hendel suddenly, and then tapped the record button on his phone. He zoomed it onto Cloud, figuring this kind of observation would be useful for not just the doc, but for Zack himself.

They were probing Shera; this much he could safely ascertain. Its likely they may even follow up on the plan to ambush Rufus or Palmer or maybe even _both _after all; gods forbid. The whole idea certainly spiked Zack's innards with a thickly-coated, weighty layer of wriggling parasites stuck in mucus; his belly coiling and churning with every unpleasant scenario playing out in the most profoundly horrible way imaginable at the back of his mind.

_God. I can't believe Aerith is actually involved in this, _Zack couldn't help wondering. He flipped the camera to her on occasion, but most footage remained steadily on Cloud. _She's a damn-near true terrorist now; actively working to help further AVALANCHE's goals... And while I don't support any of Shinra's shit... look at what it's doing to her. She's practically helping them plan a __**MURDER**__!_

_AERITH, for fuck's sake! __**HER**__, of all people!_

Zack cursed when Cloud stepped out of his shot. He waited until the blond moved back in before resuming recording. Despite the camera being locked onto Cloud though, Zack's eyes remained stubbornly fixed onto the flower girl.

_Man. This is so fucked up_, He almost muttered aloud._ Why can't she just stay with Elmyra anyway? Couldn't we figure out a way to make her and her mom disappear together instead of... this? How can we make this work anyhow?_

_..._

_How can Tseng's plan even work at __**all**__?_

Zack blinked as he heard Cid mutter a colorful and creative slew of expletives; the roar of a pair of helicopters screaming over head. Just as he watched Cid bolt back inside the house, he heard Vincent's gravelly growl crackle through his transmitter; forcibly drawing his attention away from his spiraling thoughts.

_"Rufus is here," _He dead-panned in the most Tseng-like way possible.

"Yeah, no shit," the ex-SOLDIER hissed as he watched Aerith and Cloud step out into the back-yard. "They're coming out of the house. Looks like Cloud's calling in his buddies."

_"I see him," _said he.

"What's your position?" Zack murmured next, hunkering down in the junk as much as he could. "I can't see you anywhere."

_"I'm cloaked and I'm on the roof. I can see and hear enough from here. Is that you in the garbage heap?"_

"Yeah. Its the best place I coulda got some footage of Cloud when he was in the house. Hendel's orders."

_"Ah."_

Zack's eyes glued themselves to Aerith, who he watched gaped at the plane in open-mouthed appreciation. Cloud was seen muttering something to Cait Sith about it; not that he could hear them immediately over the trepidatious hammering of his heart.

_They're too close. I need to move but... _Zack kept himself cloaked, but did find that maneuverability is generally lacking in this tiny junk-yard. _Fucking rookie move there, trapping myself like this_, he inwardly snarled at himself.

_"...Shit," _He suddenly heard Vincent mutter.

"Aw don't say that," Zack grumbled. "What is it now?"

_"Stay right where you are. There's a fairly sized contingent following Rufus," _He added much to Zack's growing horror. _"And while I'm no expert and can safely say I've never seen them before, I think he has some SOLDIER guards with him."_

"Oh fuck me sideways," he groaned while slamming his head into his hand. "Do they have some big-ass swords almost their height and the body-size of a brick-house? Yunno, kinda like me but less sexy?"

_"...Yes."_

"...Dare I ask how many?"

_"...Enough to pose a problem if they're anything as strong as you or Cloud."_

"That depends on their rank," Zack offered. "What's the colors of their uniforms?"

_"Three purple, and three black. I think the rest are normal Shinra Security. One of them I believe is Palmer's guard. Is that bad?"_

"...Great googly-moogly, we're so totally fucking _boned_."

Zack threw back his head, his skull colliding (quietly) into the sheet of metal meant to be garbage. He wanted to bang his head several more times into a solid wooden beam for good measure, but that also meant making more noise. _Yup_, he figured. _I think I can safely say that today, Minerva's decided that she'd much rather screw me than save me- and __**royally **__screw me, at that. Worse yet... I don't Rufus is here for good ol' chit-chat neither._

"Yo Vince," Zack suddenly thought. "Could you do me a favor?"

_"...It depends. What do you have in mind?"_

"I'm just asking ya if you think you can keep tabs on the SOLDIER dudes with Rufus. Just watch 'em in case they decide to come 'round back. Cloud's probably called in his buddies, but I dunno if they'll actually get here before those SOLDIER dudes pin us down. Can ya do that?"

Vincent's next reply was rather drawn out; like he'd _very _carefully considered his following response. He uttered an uncertain _"I'll do what I can" _that helped make Zack feel a little better.

"Thanks man. I appreciate it," the ex-SOLDIER smiled, finally releasing his connection with him.

Zack's eyes then shot back over to Cloud, whose own gaze lingered on the individuals inside the house. Cid was seen talking briefly to a rolly-polly dough-ball in a tacky brown suit; whom Zack vaguely recognized as Palmer. As soon as Cid was out that front door though, the large man was rapid-fire shooting off his mouth to an uncertain Shera; whose delicate and worried features continuously slipped free whenever Palmer wasn't looking. To say the least, she just didn't look very happy about whatever the subject was about.

Zack decided to watch Cloud again instead; albeit briefly. The blond was still on his PHS; a cheap flip-phone that was probably bought at some sort of back-water station in the slums market of Midgar or Kalm. It wasn't nearly as advanced as Zack's phone, let alone Cissnei's; but it also didn't require all of the fancy features to do what he needed it to do. Chances were he was still talking to Barret or Tifa about what he's learned from Cid's spouse; all the while Cait Sith watched and added on his own thoughts to the matter.

When he directed his attention back to Aerith merely in passing, he couldn't help his next reaction: Forcibly sucking down air like he was drowning; his heart stinting in mid-beat.

Aerith was looking _**RIGHT **_at him.

Not around his general location; not lingering passively over it like she's in deep thought and was simply staring out into space; but cognitively locking onto his position like she can _physically see him standing there_. Her hand still may be resting on the plane, but she'd long-since stopped circling it. Her gaze was definitely deer-like; alert and cautious, her ribbon lifting in the subtle breeze almost like perked ears. Her luminous gaze was firmly arrested onto his location behind the bins; despite him being cloaked.

Her pretty brows scrunched, coral-colored lips curling downwards. She looked like she was having trouble keeping something into focus, but she was doing that weird _I-can-see-your-ass_ thing that made her seem omniscient. Zack was forced to remember the time Aerith had knowingly sensed he and Cissnei back in the Costa Del Sol, and suddenly realized that there's no true way he could ever successfully hide from her. Not fully and not for long, anyway. Her senses of awareness and whatever other insight she got from being a Cetra simply rendered hiding from her nearly impossible for any long periods of time. Cloak would never work on her for long.

Well... _**fuck**_. How come he was only figuring this out _now_?

Zack slowly pressed the button on his transmitter, fighting to keep his composure together at this point. "So yeah... Vince," he lowly breathed in the tiniest voice possible. "-I don't think Aerith's being fooled by cloaking anymore."

_"Huh...?"_

"Just look at her, man. See how she's just standing there?"

_"...__**Oh**__."_

"Yup. See my problem here?"

_"Dammit. Did she hear you or something?"_

"No man. I think she's just able to sense stuff _really _well," he whispered in a steadily lower voice. His breaths almost rattled against his respirator, "She did this back at the Costa Del Sol; Sis knows what I'm talking about."

_"...Don't move. I think I can-" _Vincent suddenly and abruptly trailed off; instilling leaden cold into Zack's nerves. _"...Hold on a second."_

"Dude... what is it _now?_" the ex-SOLDIER squeaked as he watched Aerith narrow her eyes at his location. When he was met with advent silence though, he had to force himself to stop shaking before he dropped his phone. He stuffed it away, and then tapped the button on his transmitter, "Yo Vincent? Do you read me? _Vincent_!"

Zack got some interference before his transmitter crackled a response; Vincent's following words noticeably lower than before. _"Garm, how good is SOLDIER hearing?" _he hoarsely pressed with the slightest smidgen of urgency.

"...Good enough," the younger man couldn't help the spiking of his nerves. "Their sense of awareness is usually _much_ better though. Why-?"

_"...I can't talk anymore. I think one or two can hear me," _he muttered. _"Or sense me in general. I need to relocate. I'll be silent until then, but it doesn't mean I won't hear you. Alright?"_

"Okay but... but what about Aer- errrrrrrr..." Zack had to immediately stop talking himself just as he watched Aerith take a tiny step towards him.

_Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap-_

"Palmer's coming out!" Cloud suddenly hissed off to the side.

Aerith shook her head and flashed Cloud a concerned and vaguely frightened glance, and then she abruptly threw herself to the ground behind one of the plane's tail-fins. Seeing as its closest to the ground, she was able to conceal herself fairly well for that initial second; just as Palmer decided to step out with a falsely smiling Shera in tow.

The woman looked like a damn prisoner with two of Palmer's Security Sect guards on either side; with a single second-class SOLDIER staying fairly close to his boss's left. Shera stopped shy of the Tiny Bronco's propeller, watching as Palmer meandered towards the plane with a rapt fascination that made his mustache twitch excitedly.

The corpulent man gently grazed the plane as Aerith had done; murmuring "Amazing" just under his breath. "...Its simply astounding," he appreciatively added on. "Did Mr. Highwind _really_ build this thing from scratch-? All from the comfort of his own home?"

"Eh... Yes?" She timidly replied.

The man kept shaking his head, his own SOLIDER cronie whistling lowly and reverently next to him as he apparently shared the same sentiment. "And to think," continued his boss. "This thing here is just _home-made_. Could you imagine if Mr. Highwind actually had a department to himself where he had access to the proper materials to build this? Maybe Rufus _**is**_ onto something here: Perhaps our under-funded Aeronautics division IS the way to go."

"Sir-?" Shera carefully said.

Just as Palmer started to navigate his way towards the cock-pit, Aerith viciously clamped down on her lower lip and scuttled away in a vague crab-walk towards the work-shed. Her back hit the door with just the slightest and smallest _dink _ever; her bangles jangling minutely. The sound was, for all rights and purposes; just as quiet as it could be. It couldn't be heard by any normal person with perfectly normal hearing and perfectly normal senses.

Unless you're SOLDIER, that is.

The SOLDIER standing next to Palmer jerked; suddenly shooting a glance towards the vehicle's tail. His helmet concealed whatever surprise could've been etched across his face, although his jaw moving was indicative of his consternation.

Aerith sat rigidly still in reaction; doing her best impersonation of chameleon despite being unable to change her colors. Her petrified eyes went round; her hands suddenly snapping to her mouth to cover it. She did scooch off to the side in a meager attempt to relocate herself before the man went to investigate, but she didn't have the time to move more than a foot or so.

As it is, the SOLDIER had to of course make _everyone's _lives difficult when he began to tip-toe over; ducking under the plane's wing in the process. If he saw Aerith, more than just a shit-storm would hit the fan; he'd no doubt capture her and tell Rufus, and all of the efforts of everyone in the Septimus Project would be for naught if the president decided on taking the girl home with him TODAY. That, or Cloud would have to be forced from his hiding place in order to engage this enemy; and the slew of other SOLDIERs with Rufus.

Either way, Cloud's tiny team wasn't going to last long if Zack didn't do _something_.

And that was more than enough incentive for Zack; who didn't even bother considering his next move and the repercussions of it. Instead of waiting for Cloud to help drag her into his hiding place, Zack was there in an instant; soundlessly throwing his body over Aerith's while keeping cloak active. He pressed his gloved hands over Aerith's to keep her from making any other noise of protest or surprise; slowly pulling the girl as close to his body as possible. He hovered over her; pressing her up against the door and his own physique in a way to help flatten their intermingled shapes against the back-drop.

"You know, I was really skeptical when Rufus first proposed this," Palmer prattled on nearby; not noticing his guard had his attentions arrested elsewhere- Said guard now inspecting the very spot the two sat cloaked at. He worked his mandible a few times, pressing his tongue against his cheeks but eventually shrugging off his confusion. Not more than a few seconds after that, he huffed disinterestedly and ambiently wandered around the plane in a lazy saunter; throwing both his arms behind his head and whistling.

Zack retained his position for a wholesome minute before he gently tugged on Aerith; trying to subtly direct her to his own previous hiding spot. The girl couldn't see him, nor herself for that matter; all she could detect was his touch and smell as he tried pulling her with him. She didn't budge for that first frightened and flabbergasted second or two; but eventually she allowed herself to be lead to the little nook Zack had spent the better part of the last few minutes.

Their progress was slow going; but it eventually worked out when the pair managed to steal their way back to Zack's hidey-hole. He allowed a breath to escape him; letting cloak go briefly just so he could _fucking breathe and not expend anymore god-damn strength already dammit_. He was truly too tired to keep this up; but as he'd expected, he knew something would've went south had he not been nearby.

_It still doesn't eliminate my 'bad feeling' vibe though..._

Zack huffed and opened his eyes; being evenly met with a placid, gentle stare in-turn. Aerith's sudden calm despite having technically been snatched and dragged like willing live-stock was odd to say the least; but at least she didn't seem frightened of her current situation. If anything, she just kept eyeing the man in front of her; her attention wholly enamored with just the very concept of his appearance. Some years ago, Zack would've loved to bask in this kind of silent, glowing adulation from her. But now, it slightly unnerved him; more or less.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something, Shera's trepidatious "You can't be serious?" cut her off.

"But of course," Palmer genially reciprocated; seemingly ignorant of or simply neglecting the evident shock or disappointment within her tone. "There really isn't anymore profit to be made in the Space Program. And as much as it pains me to say it, I suppose I can't disagree with the president either."

Shera's lips trembled, her frazzled appearance suddenly more prostrate than ever. To save face, she then cautiously asked, "W-well then... I don't suppose I can ask if there's even a future in space-travel? You know, like in the nearest future, maybe-?"

Palmer moved his hands to the lapel of his suit, his expression seemingly sympathetic as he turned to face her, "I'm afraid not, my dear. As much as I loved the romantic idea of being able to discover what lies beyond this world, I also understand that its an exorbitant sum lost for little gain." He shook his head, "It doesn't support the needs of the masses; especially since we need vehicles like new and better-developed air-craft more than _ever_. After the incident with our Type-Optima _Gelnika _and the 'explosive' nature of our other planes we've had in now defunct hangars, we just can't fund both the rocket launch and mass produce these things at once."

Zack felt his brow slope dangerously, his innate frustration cautiously lifting its head from whatever rock its been buried under for the last while. _He's lying_, he immediately concluded. _Shinra's always got money to spare; they're just being fucking tight-fisted._

He heard Aerith huff petulantly, the woman seemingly coming to the same realization.

Palmer then turned back towards the plane, not noticing Shera's crest-fallen expression. "Now this here," he merrily clapped. "This could be our _future_. This thing here can help pave the way for not just better vehicles that could be made accessible to the public for communal travel and ferrying goods; but it'll be an _excellent_ addition to our military division. Now that I think about it-" He pressed a thumb to his chin as he muttered, "I wonder why we didn't just fund this during the Wutai war-? I could imagine we would've shortened that annoyingly long conflict to a about _half _its duration with this kind of technology..."

Shera's face flashed; and its something that could've been easily missed had Zack not been looking right at her. There had been just the faintest and most tracest amount of righteous _fury _there; and its something that took Zack and Aerith jointly by surprise.

"The Captain will _never_ help you build war machines," Shera said quite levelly, with no sign of her earlier timid nature to be seen. "And while I understand that the rest of your logic is quite sound, we will have _no part _in creating flying weapons."

Palmer's earlier equanimous expression flickered; the inflection falling somewhat. He suddenly chuckled, although the sound didn't posses any of his earlier mirth. "War machines? Flying weapons?" he quaintly reciprocated. "Now now, miss. I didn't say any of that..."

Shera's brows slipped marginally lower, the afternoon sunlight briefly bouncing from her spherical spectacles. "You pretty much stated otherwise," she flatly returned.

Palmer casually shrugged at her like it didn't really bother him, "Well... its not like _you _can speak for Mr. Highwind anyways; as I'm sure Rufus is helping him to realize that turning down this proposition isn't really... recommended."

Shera worked her jaw, her complexion suddenly a little pastier than before.

The fat man went on, opening his arms like he was embracing the idea within itself, "I really can't see why Mr. Highwind would refuse... I mean, with no funding, you and the 'Captain' wouldn't be able to get the materials you've been scavenging for the last few years. He'll be _**grounded **_for however long he decides 'no' is a feasible answer."

He intertwined his thick fingers into a self-satisfied hold in front of him, his smile slimy enough to sicken Zack as well as the increasingly nervous Shera. "Admittedly," he genially went on like he wasn't totally hanging an invisible threat over her head. "Shinra's abilities to manufacture air-planes has been somewhat... abysmal. While we've had some success in the past, the planes don't last long, and have a tendency to disappear after their initial maiden flights. Having said that-" He waggled a fat finger at a following thought, "We realized we've hired on engineers that haven't an idea in how to build anything that isn't a helicopter. We can make plenty of _those _easily enough."

He shrugged, "But planes, as you and Mr. Highwind should know, are quite different. We need someone who _knows _how to make these things; to spear-head our newly revised Aeronautics division. You know what I mean? If Mr. Highwind accepts-" His oily smirk turned piggish, "You'll never be restricted to just scraps again. Your wonderful machines, all modeled from this beauty!" He gesticulated to the Tiny Bronco, "Everyone will know your names, and you'll never want for nothing ever again! Isn't that just swell?"

Shera's earlier expression returned; the uncharacteristically furious one that blipped on by like an illusion made briefly tangible. It was gone again all too soon, but it hadn't been as easily missed by her current company this time around. "You're going to use these new planes in future wars," she dead-panned, her every syllable matter-of-fact. "You're just going to mow down every single innocent town that doesn't agree with you building a mako reactor in the area..."

"Now I didn't-"

"You said it yourself!" Her composed demeanor was slipping somewhat; but not so much as of yet. "And I _know _that, while making these planes would be good for civilians in the future, you're more interested in making these things into _weapons _of war. Just a moment ago, you said the war with Wutai would've been so _much _easier!" She rapidly shook her head and stepped back, moving a step or two from the guards on either side of her. "I'm not participating in this," she hissed. "I'm not helping make these abominations. And I _know _the Captain wouldn't either!"

"You sure about that?" Palmer smirked quite greasily.

Shera's militant expression was SOLDIER-worthy; holding her chin as high as she possibly could. She said nothing more to him, her razored gaze sharper than Sephiroth's Masamune.

And as if to concrete her words, all members present could hear the distant screech of "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR GOD-DAMN TREE? OH FUCKING _**HELL **_NO!" Cid's reaction had been voiced in the loudest, most obdurate way he could possibly manage- And the timing of it couldn't have been more perfect in all actuality; seeing as it perfectly epitomized Shera's earlier proclamation.

In fact, the woman shrewdly and casually folded her arms across her breast, gesticulating lazily as if to literally point out her Captain's words. Her expression echoed the smug _See what I mean? _response that likely bounced around within her throat; though the woman was plenty smart enough (or polite enough) to not say it aloud for fear of infuriating and besmirching the heavily armed guards and their boss just before her.

Palmer meanwhile flapped his toad-like trap, his double chin trembling for just the briefest of seconds before his face straightened into a more disappointed expression. He pulled his tie in an agitated tick that could be read as irritated or nervous; maybe both for all it demonstrated. He snorted, sticking his nose in the air like he just scented the strongest waft of dog excreta.

"That's... quite a shame really," he carefully pronounciated in a steadily lower voice; none of his earlier, blithe merriment to be seen. "You have no idea what you two are refusing-"

"I think we're _fully _aware of what we're dealing with," Shera returned in kind. "And we both know we don't want any hand in helping make something that'll irrefutably be used to harm others." She released her current position, her next inflection softer but somehow more stern at the same time, "When we took on this job for Shinra several years back, we wanted to help humanity better understand its place in the world by viewing it from a distance. We wanted to give man a proper chance to _fly_. But this-"

She waved her arms, "-This is not what we wanted. You're going to have to find someone else to help head your newly 'revised' Aeronautics division." She shook her head, "I'm sorry, Mr. Palmer; but we're not going to keep working for you like this. I'm going to resign from my position as one of your chief engineers. And I wouldn't doubt the Captain will too."

Aerith pumped a fist, muttering "You go girl!" under her breath. Zack smirked at the sight of it; feeling supportive of the notion himself.

Shera turned towards her door, but kept the majority of her gaze on the executive. With evidence of her earlier polite deference, she said, "Now, Mr. Palmer. I'm going to have to ask you to leave, if you don't mind. I'm sure you'll find someone just as talented as the Captain to help in your little endeavor."

The portly man twitched his grayed mustache, his already tiny eyes suddenly much smaller in his sockets. He suddenly jerked to full wakefulness; as if he'd been slapped into sobriety after a long and pleasant dream. He gesticulated rather wildly as he said, "What about your Captain? His dreams to fly? You two will _never _be able to get off the ground without us."

"We'll get by," Shera stoutly replied. "We've done well enough so far."

Palmer suddenly glanced at his guards, and then back at the infuriating woman in front of him. He was losing his composure, his patience; and its an insidious thing Zack could easily sense from miles away. Just then however, his earlier, oily expression returned with no warning; instilling that familiar dreg of fear inside of Zack's churning gut.

Palmer harrumphed, and then said rather calmly and casually, "Well then... I don't suppose you two wouldn't be interested in selling the Tiny Bronco instead? We can pay however much the Captain wishes for it."

"Nope," Shera immediately retaliated, apparently not stopping to even _remotely _consider the possibility. Without a beat, she said, "The Captain would much rather give up an arm or a leg before he even thinks about selling it. He put his whole heart and _soul _into it; and its going to take a lot more than a little pocket change to get him to even consider the idea."

She then jerked her head as a distant screech indicated that Rufus had tried the same tactic on Cid as Palmer did- And the affectionately named Captain had felt the very way as she'd anticipated. It was rather hilarious how easily Shera had been able to predict Cid's every reaction.

Shera shook her head and focused on Palmer again, "...Look. We're are not interested in negotiating _anything _ relating to your Aeronautics Division if its connected to your military at all. As I've said; if its just for the betterment of people everywhere, we'd happily oblige. However, I'm afraid that seeing as we're at an impasse, there's no further discussion to be had over it."

She inclined her head, "I'm sorry, but we're not taking anything you have to offer. And I don't want to have to waste your time anymore than we already have, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She proudly jerked her chin, "If however, you decided you'd want to reopen the possibility for a launch in the future for any reason, our door will remain open."

Palmer blinked rapidly; having likely believed that encouraging the two to give them the plane for a no doubt large sum would've certainly worked. In hind-sight, if Shera and Cid had agreed to it, it wouldn't take Shinra long to dissemble the plane and use it as a prototype blue-print for future constructions. And having heard this reply, it certainly incensed Palmer; as Zack could visibly see the budding fury within the fat-man's fairly ruddy eyes.

Just then, a cell phone rang; an absurd noise piercing the lingering tension hanging around all those present. Palmer had to literally blink off his surprise before realizing that its _his _phone that's making the irritating racket. He fumbled around his pockets for it; and then he unlocked the device with slightly shaken hands.

With a steady build of sweat upon his heavy brow, he stuttered, "Y-yes sir?"

_Uh-oh._

Zack didn't need to give this an educated guess; as he likely assumed the call was from Rufus. He passed Aerith an uncertain expression, and found that she was already throwing him a similar look of matched worry. Just then, Zack's transmitter crackled back to life; effectively reminding him that Vincent's existence was still a thing he shouldn't forget. He put a hand to his ear, ignoring Aerith's questionable glance.

_"Had to move a little further than I like, but I'm able to watch Rufus a little more closely. What's going on at your end?"_

Zack tried to shuffle away, but Aerith was still a little too close. He lowered his voice as much as he can manage; deliberately deepening it in the process. "Aerith's next to me. Can't talk now," he hissed urgently.

_"...Noted. But I will be asking what happened after this. Stay safe."_

Zack breathed out with relief; not liking the idea of having to speak more than required in Aerith's immediate proximity. Its bad enough she found Zack to be more interesting than the exchange going on between Palmer and the president.

"Uh, yes... I asked her that too..." Palmer went on, bringing Zack's attention back to the subject at present. "Ahhh... Yes, she said the same... Yes. Yes. Hm? Oh... That's... That's certainly _interesting_," he shot Shera a brief glance, but then focused on the details of the dirt beneath him. "Ah, hrrm. So uh, you just want to go ahead and-? Ahhh. Right. I understand. Yes sir. It shall be done. Yes, I'll meet you up front in a few."

He locked his phone and turned towards the lady of the house, his expression suddenly and rancidly _vile _to its very core. "Well my dear," he began with false cheer, snapping his arms behind his back. "Rufus told me something quite interesting just now... and boy oh boy, what a juicy story it was!"

And with a grin that could only spell _trouble_, he jerked his head at the Security guards in particular; a silent order that Zack was all too easily able to understand. Right then, Zack's fury _surged _throughout his body like a lethal fire-storm that viciously took hostage of most of his faculties; watching as the guards seized Shera in seething silence. The pair easily pulled her Hendel-like noodle arms behind her back and jabbed one of their assault rifles to her jaw.

Aerith jumped as well; as Zack expected. She was already half-way to her feet before Zack silently and strongly yanked her back down. He made her face him, trying to beseech to her with just eye-contact alone that they needed to wait just one second longer- no one could just jump out there and expect them to _not _out-right shoot her.

As expected, she was mutinous in her expression, but Aerith thankfully conceded and dipped her head in surrender. She shot Palmer a poisonous look though; and its something Zack didn't doubt Cloud was wearing himself not too far away. In fact, he could imagine Cait Sith was using his robotic toy to hold Cloud down.

"Rufus tells me that the botched launch from several years ago was _your _doing, my dear," Palmer began with some level of theatrical ceremony. He shrugged his sloping shoulders, "He says you were willing to risk your life for the Captain's dream; staying within the oxygen chamber right as the rocket was about to take off. It would've burned hotter than Ifrit's Hell-fire and nothing would've been left of you." His smile grew there, "Admirable, all things considered."

He meandered around the plane's propeller, trailing his pudgy fingers along its length in passing as he approached. "However, Cid was unable to sacrifice your life for that one chance at his dream; choosing _you _instead of the mission that would've carried him across the stars; in both the literal and metaphorical sense. That being said..." His malignant smirk grew like a cancerous tumor as he prattled on, "While your life means nothing to you, it certainly still means _something_ to Cid. In fact, he's already agreed to giving up his precious plane just as an insurance policy that my men here won't hurt you-"

Shera's expression was... for lack of better words, certainly the very definition of raw, unbridled, primal fear at its most base. Her lower lip trembled; her already widened eyes made further insectile by her over-large spectacles.

"So I suppose," Palmer easily asserted upon taking note of her expression, "-We're now getting the plane for _free_. How quaint." He chortled contentedly, "I suppose we're not going to have to leave here empty-handed after all. I believe I'll have to personally thank you, my dear. Now, shall we head back up front-?"

Apparently, that was all Zack could stomach before he found himself upon his shaking feet; all traces of his earlier exhaustion all but gone. One hand snapped abruptly to his glaives in wicked finality, while the other extended outward with the intent to cast Chronos on Shera's guards-

-Aerith leapt up beside him, casting a spell of a similar nature-

-And a thunderous, inhuman bellow roared its quaking wrath into being, heralding Cloud's following assault; the man having waited plenty long enough for the ample moment to strike-

The enormous shadow of the Buster Sword cast its demonic silhouette across the space between its owner and his prey; the vastness of their conjoined presence an grandiose devourer of day itself. It eclipsed the afternoon light and sucked away whatever little mercy remained; an angry arbiter raining divine judgement upon the wicked souls beneath it. With the crushing, heavy finality of a hammer upon the gavel, the hungry steel stole its way into the unsuspecting, smiling sheep still bleating its nonsense below.

His wicked, steel-edged fang plunged into unresisting flesh; meat easily tearing and caving away with buttery gluttony. The oblivious quarry never managed to fully perceive the furious bite before an nuclear inferno of agony abruptly flared throughout his brain; the white-wash of sensation so powerful and so abrupt that Palmer barely had enough time to register it as surprise instead of pain. He was suddenly falling without knowing why; spurting an epic mist of darkened crimson with no understanding for its appearance. Confusion etched across his rent face; the emotion his very last.

Zack couldn't tear away his disbelieving eyes as he watched one of his closest friends become something truly and startlingly unearthly before him. His own shocked stare stayed firmly arrested upon Cloud's contorted, rage-fueled expression; the blond's mako-charged scowl a whirling typhoon of cyan-colored flame clashing with novic, star-born cerulean. For this one, cruel, wickedly dreamy moment, he watched as his once shy and relatively unskilled friend transform into something you could very well call _Sephiroth's bane_.

He couldn't help it; he couldn't help remembering that day back in Nibelheim when Cloud had performed the impossible: When he'd been the one and only person in all the _**world **_to have cast Sephiroth away after delivering a single, mighty blow. Sure, Sephiroth could've been whittled down by Zack moments before. Sure, he was off his guard when Cloud sneakily plunged the Buster sword into him; but it was the irrefutable truth nonetheless. Cloud had truly stood his ground against Sephiroth with no qualms about taking his life; with no regard to himself and with a strength he'd never artificially gained.

And it was, in that memory, Zack somehow felt the weight of this one, simple truth:

Cloud had changed; and he didn't need Hojo to have given him the strength that he has. He always had this potential within him; making Cloud the one person Zack couldn't help believing would really end not just Sephiroth; but Shinra itself as a whole. He really whole heartedly believed that it would be _Cloud _who could possibly save them all.

And maybe, just maybe, that's why Tseng wanted Cloud alive. Its not because of Zack's friendship with him so much as the fact that Cloud would truly be an invaluable asset. Cloud was someone who, even in his weakest moments, had always out-shined Zack; in one way or another. And Zack realized at that one second as he watched one of best friends became something truly Herculean in his might, that he learned this:

Tseng's plan wasn't to safely send Zack on a path to a happy ending by complacently helping his friends. No. He wanted to _use _them against whatever force stood in their way. Whatever defined 'their' eluded Zack, but he hoped its not just for the Turks themselves so much as it was for the many- for the many hundreds of thousands of innocent souls across the world.

_We're the pawns, _he helplessly wondered. _And we're the weapons in his little game. Even if he did initially act out of kindness to save my life, he still has an ulterior motive for Cloud's survival- in our inclusion in the Septimus Project's goals... and he doesn't want Rufus knowing about it._

In a weirdly vacant daze, Zack watched as the second-class SOLDIER react far too slowly to Cloud's advent intervention. He'd barely any time to lift his arm in retaliation; his mouth flapping open in flummoxed shock as he tried to reach his blade. And just as he touched its hilt, Cloud's blood-caked, torso-sized blade was already greedily eating its way into his neck; the region the only area of truly exposed skin. Unprotected as it was, only the raised notches of his shoulder-pauldrons could've protected it; and even then it wasn't enough. The Buster Sword clipped the pauldrons; but it didn't slow its trajectory as it mercilessly severed head from neck.

Palmer's splayed halves hit the ground just as the SOLDIER's head did; the latter's body remaining standing in a ghostly parody of its former whole-ness. It took it another second or two for it to realize there's no brain ordering its legs to remain standing; and then it finally slumped to the ground with a jelly-boned _whump_.

Two moves; two silent, nearly soundless swings was all it took. Nobody would've known about what happened to Palmer and his guards unless you actually saw it. Unless one of Rufus' men inside the house looked out the kitchen window and seen it, no body would've known of the deaths that had taken place. Vincent certainly wouldn't know unless Zack reported it. However, Zack had to keep his mouth shut with Aerith so near; and he'll only get the chance to relay Cloud's success when he got some ample distance between himself and AVALANCHE.

With the two Security guards frozen as well, their captive finally had the chance to move. That being said, it still took Shera a good minute to realize that she _could _escape. She jumped to her feet in frantic surprise as soon as she had her arms back. She rotated rapid-fire glances between both men; and then settled on gaping at the blood-flecked Cloud before her. She fixed her glasses more securely to her face; her expression a mixture of frantic and brittle calm.

"I-I... You didn't have to-" she stuttered, trying to find the nerve to properly thank them.

Aerith had run over; throwing both hands on Shera's shoulders and making the other woman face her. "Are you _alright_?" she implored. "They didn't do anything else to hurt you, did they?"

"N-No... I'm fine," she steadily replied, starting to find her bearings. She peered curiously past Aerith's shoulder though, honestly surprised to see the stranger amidst them. "Whose he? Is he with you guys?" she went on to ask.

Cait Sith had long since stepped past her and used a sleep spell on the two guards, the frozen spell wearing off to be replaced with another ailment. More death wasn't necessary; and inwardly Zack couldn't help being gracious for the consideration of these two hapless guards being spared.

The Cat chortled as he turned around, "Nup! We really don't know the lad," he replied with a jovial twitch of the tail. "He just comes and goes as he pleases, it seems."

Cloud's icy glare remained fixed on the supposed Turk, having taken a rag from Cait's moogle so to clean the blood off his blade. "He's supposed to be a Turk, but he doesn't really act like one," he lowly offered as an answer. He then added in a muttering undertone, "Nor does he _dress _like one."

The subject of their conversation merely stood there, still lost amidst his own reverie. Zack shuffled in place here and there, his blank gaze unfeeling and distant. His fists were balled at his sides, head lowered enough so that the sun continued to cast a perpetual gloom over whatever little could be seen of his face.

_Tseng... what is he trying to do? _Zack couldn't help asking himself; the man now ignorant to the stares he was attracting. _He isn't really going to use us against Shinra, is he? He tried so hard to hide me from them as it is... But then again, is that why he wants me to stick around? To help Cloud get better so he can use him? Or is that assuming too much? Maybe I'm jumpin' the gun or something, but... my gut's tellin' me otherwise._

_Dammit... What the hell is he even trying to __**do**__-?_

"Um... hello? Mr. Turk?"

Zack blinked, noticing Aerith's beseeching stare boring into him. He retreated from her somewhat, suddenly remembering that he had a whole other slew of problems within his immediate vicinity right now- one of which was just standing _less than a mere meter from him_. Aerith however came forward with every single step he took back; one hand balled at her breast. She blinked at him, her gaze politely curious.

_Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god I need to run oh my god oh my god oh my god why is she so close oh my god oh my god oh my god-_

She smiled slightly, her initial words slow but earnest. "...Um. Hey uh... thanks for the help," she went on with a little hesitation. She nibbled on her lower lips, her eyes briefly darting to the ground before focusing back onto Zack. In a timid voice, she said, "I uh... I really do appreciate it."

Zack tried looking off to the side, not wanting to give Aerith anymore of a chance to scrutinize his mako-charged eyes than she already had- she'd probably recognize them all the easily if she did. He kept his hands pinned to his sides, unable to speak up. He merely shook his head, trying to act like it was no big deal.

Even though it was.

_I think I'm fucking up. I'm fucking up simply by lingering here. I need to leave. I need to __**run**__-_

"If I may ask," she went on, quite meticulously chewing on her words. "I've never seen anyone like you in the Turks before- or at least, not anyone with your specialization. I usually know the names of the majority, but you're the only Turk I haven't actually properly met." Her smile increased in warmth, "If its not too much trouble, can I know your name?"

Zack flapped his gums, unable to give the courtesy of an answer. His eyes briefly flipped to Cloud, whose expression was sternly distant but curious. Next to him, Cait bobbed his tail to and fro; with Zack truly feeling the weight of his position as he eyed the feline back.

_Reeve's in on Tseng's little 'side projects', isn't he? So surely my being here isn't something detrimental to the mission-? Reeve isn't going to say anything about Cissnei's partner, whose supposed to be in Kalm right now, is actually __**here**__, right-?_

Zack glanced back at Aerith, who was clearly expecting an answer. And again, just like in the Costa Del Sol some weeks back, Zack was stuck juggling whether or not to oblige Aerith with the appropriate response. He didn't want to push her away, but he also knew he _needed _to do so; for THEIR sake. But then again, there really wasn't any harm in giving Aerith Garm's name, right?

Just as he opened his mouth to actually say something, he stiffened as he heard Vincent's voice over the ear-piece; the man's natural growl containing no thinly veiled sense of urgency. _"Zack," _he began in a rush._ "One of Rufus's guards said he reported a death! What the Hell is happening over there?"_

Zack was about to reply, despite Aerith's immediate proximity, but then Vincent suddenly cut him off, _"They're __coming inside! At least three SOLDIER and the rest his guards-"_

Zack immediately darted his eyes at the kitchen window, not quite catching the rest of the elder man's words. He watched as the heavily armed band of grunt went to the back-door; the Security Sect cocking their rifles while they barged their way through the home. The noise within itself alerted Cloud and the rest; but with the exception of the former, Aerith, Shera, and the cat were too slow to react to the breaking of Cid's back door. It was thrown off its hinges; one first class SOLDIER breaking his way through and stepping aside just enough to let his lesser fellows level their weapons at the entire group; no one person to be spared or differentiated.

"Kill them all!" The SOLDIER bellowed.

Cloud immediately threw Shera and Cait Sith behind his back at the same time Zack pulled Aerith; all the while the former SOLDIER immediately summoned Aegis Shield into being. He put it between Cloud and their enemies; the bullet spray an insidious deluge that energized the shield's charge. Zack could almost tangibly _feel _the bombastic blows as they empowered the shield's next phase; the spell increasing in size as it absorbed every concussive shot. Zack fought to keep the spell tame; forcibly trying to contain its explosive nature. He didn't want to blow Cid and Shera's house by mistake, or throw Cloud backward from the resulting force.

_**Seriously**__ this fucking spell! _He inwardly snarled, feeling his teeth grind against each other.

He felt Aerith fist a handful of his clothes from behind him; the girl leaning against him as if she was helping brace him against the strength of the shield itself. He didn't know if she was or wasn't helping, but Zack figured she was; considering her mage-level mastery over materia. For all he knew, keeping a lid on this explosive can of worms was only manageable with her beside him at this second.

Just then, another roar bellowed and screamed over the iron hail of bullets; a great vortex of violent wind kicking up dust and dirt and the scent of the fallen bodies. A whirlwind churned up the loose soils from the yard; the junk piles screeching their protest as all was unsettled by the tempest.

Zack pulled Aerith to the ground on instinct, still fighting to hold the shield. He saw something cut overhead; the shape wider than the Buster Sword's own body. It took the ex-SOLDIER a few seconds to realize that the _Tiny Bronco _had been turned on, and he'd nearly been cuffed by the wing as the plane stirred in place.

The wing nearly caught Cloud unawares too; but he noticed the danger and ducked down just as it wildly swung at where his head was just a nano-second ago. He took Shera by the wrist and turned towards the plane, wondering why in all the Hell it was on- That is, until he noticed Cait Sith wasn't with him.

"Fucking- _CAIT!_" Cloud bellowed, glacial gaze firmly locked upon the plane's primary cock-pit. _"GET OUT OF THERE!"_

The mechanical feline was riding the stirring wheel like he was very much riding the saddle of a very real bucking bronco; his every extremity hilariously thrown around him as he struggled to retain his hold. He yowled and screamed bloody murder; trying to keep his crown stuck to his head.

_"WA- WA- HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLP-!" _

The SOLDIER and guards narrowly avoided the plane's wild rotation; both sets of wings and tail narrowly missing them as well. However, despite this ample distraction, it wasn't enough for the first class SOLDIER; whose sharp-edged gaze could still be felt through his helmet. It lingered over Cloud especially; with the man taking tentative steps in the blond's direction in an attempt to fiercely adhere to his orders.

_No you don't!_

Zack knew he was going to hate himself in the morning for what he's about to do, but his orders were to protect Cloud and Aerith, _no matter what_. So, he decided to finally let the shield go; knowing that its folly not to take the tactical advantage during their moment of momentum. He closed his fist; keeping one arm around Aerith's waist and keeping her braced against his more solid form. Thankfully, Cloud knew from experience just what the Aegis shield can do, and did the same with Shera as he watched Zack snap his hand shut.

The resulting explosion was akin to a tiny, nuclear bomb going off; the chaotic maelstrom a raging storm whipping its wrath across the yard. The house's windows blew out; light weighted metal junk whirled into the air; Security Sect guards were blasted into the air or blown into the house itself; and the _Tiny Bronco _got a boost from the after-shock. It jumped into the air like a frightened bird taking off in mindless fright; the mechanical engine screaming its violent protest as it went.

Zack caught a gnarly idea as he watched it; suddenly deciding that the only safe way to get Aerith out of here was to follow suit. He activated his High Jump materia and _leaped_; crossing the distance in just nano-seconds- with the very speed he used to dodge bullets back in the wastes. He closed the gap between himself and Cloud in a single bound; snagging both blond, Buster Sword and Shera and tucking them under his arm haphazardly. He knew it would hurt not only them, but _himself _in the process, but its a single-shot that'll only last split-seconds.

He then _leaped_; the move more or less akin to taking flight. He empowered his jump with every adrenaline fueled fiber within his steeled quads; using High Jump to amplify his following move ten-fold. He _flew _onto the plane itself, throwing Cloud and Aerith into the secondary cock-pit and tossing Shera into the Primary.

"_DRIVE!_" He sharply ordered, fighting to be heard over the shrieking gale swiftly sweeping his one, clipped word away.

Shera fumbled with her spectacles; Zack realizing that the glasses had only stayed on due to the string being attached to its ends. After fixing them, she fumbled with the controls for a few nerve-wracking seconds; and then she righted the plane's flight path just as it violently swerved. With some level of practice and expertise, she veered the tiny air-craft around Rocket Town's perimeter; her expression hardening as the inkling of an idea came to her convoluted mind.

Just as Zack caught the wild flash of expression, he barely had enough time to hold onto the seat as Shera turned the plane on a dime. The vehicle whined as it forcibly banked back towards the direction of her house; the woman viciously pulling one lever after the other. Once she felt her flight path was fully corrected and under her control, she lowered altitude; albeit not by much. The plane was now so low it almost clipped the house; and it was certainly low enough to force Rufus and his remaining stragglers of SOLDIER and Security Sect to duck down. Shera even had the balls to _slow down_; although for whatever reason eluded Zack-

-That is, until he saw Cid punch out his captors when they were distracted by the fly-by; and then take off after them like some sort of mutant speed-demon on some kind of high-end steroids. The man was so damn _fast _it didn't seem human; his legs a damn blur under his fairly built body. He pumped his arms, and then as Zack had, _flew _into the air like he was being carried on angel's wings- Except that he wasn't being aided by any materia that Zack could see.

_...Holy fuck! This man just isn't meant for the ground, is he? _He couldn't help thinking.

Cloud had finally recovered from the rough handling, and watched Cid take that death-defying leap. He swung out his hand and caught the other man just as he grazed the plane; Cid's legs scratching paint as he struggled to find purchase. The blond managed to pull him onto the plane itself, but there wasn't any room in the seats for Cid.

And the weight within itself was a sheer tell; let alone the grinding cry of the engine.

The plane began to dip; although it didn't quite nose-dive. Shera fought to keep the thing elevated and straight, gritting her teeth as she pulled the controls down towards herself. Cid shouted something at her, but Zack couldn't quite catch it. He squeezed her seat with a vice he was sure was warping steel; feeling his teeth clench and clack together with every undulation.

_BANG._

The Bronco bucked again; but not in any protest this time. A tiny explosion had blown out behind them; but the wild winds nearly swept all the sound away in its entirety. However, Zack managed to catch it; as did Cloud and Cait Sith. All three spied the damage to rear end; one of the Bronco's tail flaps having been grazed by a volley of bullet-fire- Courtesy of Rufus, no doubt.

"_**FUCKING SHIT**_!" Cid screeched over all the chaos. "WE'RE GOING DOWN! HOLD ON TO YOUR BRITCHES AND _DON'T PISS IN 'EM_!"

Shera tried to keep the plane aloft; but the weight and flapping bits of tail proved all her efforts in vain. The _Tiny Bronco _kept on losing altitude; swinging and banking without any way of properly controlling its trajectory. Shera kept the stick in place as best as she could; only relenting just enough for the plane to carry itself towards the direction of the ocean.

"**BRACE!**" She shouted at the passengers.

The descent felt far too long and excruciating to experience; a terror unlike any other. However, the cracking rupture of water with the hardness of concrete made the inevitable end to their ride all the more unbearable. The wall of brine and blue splattered iron droplets across them all; Zack's sight blinking and blackening out. He felt his neck, back and tightly clenched teeth crack with the force; his grip on Shera's seat loosening.

The plane kept on going; its momentum carrying it a little ways across the surface of the ocean. With each wave it met, it slowed it down just a touch more; and eventually, the water won out against the tired engine. The _Tiny Bronco _came to a grinding, whining, pivoting halt; the vehicle spinning in place as the currents faced it in the near opposite direction. Just as it finally came to that jerking stop, there was a putter and groan; a grumbling cry that whimpered and moaned as sea-water infiltrated the plane's shell through various, tiny holes or imperfections along its length. The propeller spun for that one, final moment after the crash; and then gradually slowed to a complete and deadened stop.

Silence. Absolute, dreadful quietude befell the group; the winds whipping over the sea the only break in said hush. Waves lapped at the sides, smoke billowed from the tail, and the annoyingly bright afternoon sun bared its brightest blessing upon them; heat and humidity closely hugging their bodies.

The plane was thankfully buoyant to an extent; so they didn't have to worry about sinking this time around. That being said, Cid was the first to recover; fumbling over his footing as he carefully snaked his way past the secondary cock-pit and towards the tail. He eyed it for a few, solid minutes; all the while the rest of the group struggled to find their bearings.

Zack released his death-grip on Shera's seat and fell back, feeling his migraine return with a vengeance that nearly blind-sighted him. Cait Sith was still a wadded ball of raised fur in front of them with the additional appearance of looking like a decorative hood ornament; his claws still stuck to the cock-pit's lip. Shera fixed her glasses and slouched into Zack himself, unable to support her own weight. Aerith sighed somewhere behind him and _ulped_; struggling with surprise nausea. Cloud grunted an indecipherable slew of curses with no bite to them, groaning as he unstuck himself and the Buster Sword from Cid's freshly punctured seating.

Finally, Zack blinked off his advent headache and turned enough to face Cid, watching as the man planted his hands on his hips and whip around to face them all. He chewed on his lip in ponderous consternation, his expression rather calmly reflective. He said nothing initially, instead choosing that moment to drag out his pack of cigarettes from his aviator goggles and inspect them for any dry sticks. He found one, dug out a lighter from Minerva-knows-where, and took his sweet time in lighting it. He puffed rather contentedly; as if totally unconcerned for the circumstances they now all found themselves in.

And when he did find the moment to speak, it was in this one, dry, dead-pan, decisive sentence; well-worded and quite descriptive of their current situation:

"Well fucking shit-dipped pricks and dicks... its not even two in the god-damn afternoon and yet every single one of us here have _ALL_ been royally, totally, completely, and _anal-ly_ ass-fucked by Shinra every which way. This is just not our day now, is it?"

Aerith twitched; limpidly dragging herself part-way out of the cock-pit and off of Cloud's lap with all the dramatic, slow-mo grace of sea-sick slug- Just to throw her head over the side of the plane to vomit up every ounce of whatever she ate this morning.

_Oh lookie. Trail mix, _Zack jokingly thought to himself, unable to process what the Hell just happened. He slumped backwards until his head hit metal; his eyes slamming shut in fatigued ceremony as his adrenaline high wore off. He scrambled to pick up the pieces of his brain, finding breathing more difficult to perform unconsciously.

Man. He knew he's going to have to do a _lot _of explaining when he saw Cissnei again...

And he also knew, she wasn't going to _ever _let him out of her sight again.


	16. Our Own Divide

~777~

_Minerva so help these poor unfortunate souls; who had to be here on this very day, during our assignment to protect AVALANCHE. May her judgement be fair and swift to them all._

The plane's violent bursts of wind-shear and gusty torrents whipped around Vincent in a fantastic funnel that spun with all the ferocity of an untamed gale-storm. Shingles were shorn from the roof of Cid's house, dust and debris flew in blinding bursts; the scent of offal and blood of the fallen almost entirely lost to the plane's swift ascent. The whining wail of shifting metal grinding against its brethren shrieked in teeth-grating agony; the noise only bested by the _Tiny Bronco's_ chaotic rotor wash.

Vincent watched the tiny bi-plane cut into the air from his position on another house adjacent to Cid's home; the man trying his best to have kept Zack's request to survey the president's guard. With the agitated swiftness of a frightened sparrow, the _Tiny Bronco _frenetically tried to escape the degrading situation as if it had a Zolam-Spine Kestrel close on its tail. It bobbed and banked and tilted at random intervals; but then righted itself as it began to cut a straight and steady path into the next thermal blown in from the sea. It lifted, listed, hesitated; and then whirled on the very tip of its left wing and spun a violent return to the residence. Once it was generally facing Vincent's direction at a forward interval, it dipped without any warning; its chassis almost clipping fences and vehicles as it flew just over the main street.

Rufus and his men ducked; and they couldn't have cut it any closer when it happened. Vincent himself had to flatten himself as close as his wiry body can manage against the neighboring roof; the wing very nearly cuffing him during its pass. He waited for a second, and then he watched Cid Highwind run after the vehicle and leap like a true Dragoon Lancer; managing to make it to the vehicle just as it was passing the borders of the town itself.

**"FIRE!"**

Rufus' clipped command cut through the fantastic back-draft from the plane; somehow perceivable over all the racket that blared around them. His remaining guards barely had enough time to react; letting off a slew of wild and erratic shots that did nothing to nail their fleeing foe. Vincent and Rufus jointly knew these men weren't going to hit anything at the rate they're going; so the president leveled the playing field when he whipped out his shotgun and joined in.

With autonomic and composed precision, Vincent caught the exact _second _when he witnessed one of Rufus' shots succeed in hitting the plane's tail. It began to fight the pilot; but then it disappeared over the vast copse of trees just outside the town- leaving its fate unknown to him. No one but Rufus had managed this feat; as was evident with the president's self-satisfied scoff at the sight of the smoke billowing from the plane's tail. Vincent didn't quite know what became of his partner, but he suspected the impulsive ex-SOLDIER would inform him once he had the chance. That being said, he turned his attention to his more immediate threat:

Burgundy eyes locking upon the president, he knew AVALANCHE will be here within the moment to start a fight they may not win. With these SOLDIERs and guards out-numbering and out-powering Barret's team, Vincent knew he needed to either alleviate the threat, or hope Barret and his fellows would have the sense to not engage. Still, as Zack would likely do, Vincent decided that the safety of Cloud's incoming companions would matter more than anything. The rest of the Turks may not necessarily care about the others outside of Cloud and Aerith, but Zack wasn't exactly a Turk. He would make sure these guys stayed out of trouble and _**assured **_their path out of here was safe.

Just as Vincent thought about Cissnei and what her reaction would be, his transmitter crackled to life, _"Vincent! I can't get a hold of Zack. I think his transmitter is out of range. I don't suppose he was on that plane, by chance...?"_

"...He was."

_"Oh fucking-" _she murmured, her words suddenly undiscernable as Vincent imagined her face-palming in the process. _"Who was he with? Do you know at all?"_

"The targets from what I managed to glimpse," Vincent assured. "So Cloud and Aerith are presumably safe. Maybe."

_"Fucking flaming Hells I'm going to kill him," _Cissnei bit, her scathing words shocking the elder man. _" I dunno what the Hell happened, but he better have a good explanation for his interacting with them."_

Just then, Vincent watched the guards who survived their encounter with Zack and Cloud shakily trudge their way to the rest of the group in a shaken stupor; exiting Cid's house with evidence of their injuries. Some obviously had lost their equilibrium; the fury of Zack's Aegis Shield having blown out their ear-drums. The first-class SOLDIER however was the one who was better-off; and a problem Vincent knew he needed to eliminate right then.

Vincent felt himself frown upon the sight of them, "...Cissnei, I'll have to contact you later. I have some cleaning up to do."

_"Alright. You __**better**__ careful," _she replied rather stiffly. _"Keep in mind, we're going to have a long talk about this AFTER we're done. So no dodging it!"_

Even Vincent couldn't help that cringe as he heard the venom drip over her words. He considered saying something else in edgewise, but decided against it as he surveyed his new targets.

He mustn't let these men inform Rufus of their encounter with Garm; who'd only just recently managed to escape Rufus' scrutiny. He didn't need these men complicating Zack's precarious position with a single, detailed report. It would blow not only Zack's cover, but Cissnei's as well. The girl was supposed to be in Kalm right now; she and her partner _both_. And as Vincent told her before they split up, any word of their current position here would complicate the position of the Septimus Sect.

A grim a realization as it was, its the only truth that had to be accepted- One where these semi-normal men doing their average every-day work, who may not even be loyal to Rufus at all, must _**not **_be allowed to breathe a word of their encounter. Victims of happenstance, in every sense of the word. They would became a necessary casualty for the betterment of a presumably dead man and his living loved ones.

They were not allowed to _live_.

He kept on the cloak spell; knowing that his exact position would be harder to pinpoint if they didn't have a proper target to sight. He felt his unseen cape flare behind him as he whipped out his much favored three-barrel; _Cerberus _barking its Hellish wrath as it rained a molten volley of leaden hail upon the surviving first-class SOLDIER. The triangular-formation of entry points for the bullets penetrated the man's helmet with an ease similar to a white-hot soldering iron burning though a thin plastic wall.

Vincent couldn't help his grunt of surprise when the man remained standing; even though the wound had been serious- even fetal. Almost drunkenly, the first-class turned to find the source of the bullets faster than anyone else; but Vincent unloaded another shot for good measure- right into his face, at that. Just as he finally fell, already Vincent had another unlucky soul locked within sights.

_These men are barely above human at this point. Head shots won't kill them immediately. Just how mortal are they? _He felt his frown return with increased fervor, _And just how human is Zack, whose actually been the subject of Hojo's experimentation? He, or Cloud for that matter?_

_...Perhaps we truly aren't so different; are we, Zack?_

He shot the second class SOLDIERs; waiting to make sure they have fallen before swapping to the Security grunt next. Rufus however had long-since noticed where the shots were coming from; and started returning fire at the general area where he saw them originate. Vincent rolled across the roof-top and shot again; being sure to avoid hitting Rufus.

All men were by now alerted to something attacking them; even though their response couldn't have been _slower_. The ones who couldn't hear anything above ringing were the easiest to take down; but the few SOLDIER remaining, not so much. As Zack had cautiously informed him, these men required more shots; despite the head-shots within themselves being delivered with inhuman precision. They staggered and attempted to respond with materia, but they thankfully toppled over before they can finish casting a single sputter of a spell. Vincent had to reload again much sooner than he liked once he was through with them.

_I will not take more lives than necessary, nor do I take pleasure in my new oath; no matter if its existence gives me purpose. However, I will not let Zack's forced inability to fight allow in the death of another Lucrecia. _

He had only the briefest of nano-seconds to consider her, but he pictured the woman Zack had talked so fondly of. Having seen Aerith for himself, Vincent could quite _easily _see why she was so special. Literally, something about her had mystified and humbled the weary and restless; her genteel nature a compelling, magnetic force. All from one glimpse, he could see that there had been an unearthly air to her that made her different from every other person.

No matter what way he had to go about it, protecting Aerith had become precedence. It just so happened that, while Zack's bond with her was something to be cherished, Aerith's blood-line played a smaller part in Vincent's reasoning for this. She being a legitimate Ancient- the very thing Lucrecia had sought to revive and had given her life for, coincided with Vincent's interests in this way. And with Vincent helping Zack as he was, one could say he could very well be helping Lucrecia's dreams for the future to endure.

_Oh how Lucrecia would've loved to meet her, _the man inwardly mused. _She would've done whatever it took to free Aerith too, wouldn't she? Our world would be all the better for it._

Vincent's sights dead-locked; his foes hapless prey to the slaughter. He reloaded _Cerberus _with one practiced motion rendered inhumanly swift by Hojo's malicious touch.

_For Lucrecia's fallen desire, and for this Aerith's well-being, I will hold no quarter nor take any prisoners. If I must be Shinra's undertaker, then I will bury all who stand before us. I will give as much as I take. For what is, what must __**be**__._

_And I will have no regrets in that._

Rufus was now a profound problem. Even as his men were brutally cut down, he didn't even _flinch_. He aimed straight at Vincent's location each time he saw sparks fly from the mouth of Vincent's gun; not at all unnerved by his inability to see him. His aim was just as uncannily accurate as the elder man's; his electric blues a liquid-nitrogen shock-cold that gave nothing away. He unloaded enough shots to prompt Vincent into moving again; the latter leaping from the house and flipping over the diminishing group. Again, as soon as the elder man's feet hit the dirt, he had to reload before the president could get the chance to let off some more shots back.

Rufus was now the last one standing; and it didn't bother him in the least. Almost eagerly, his eyes flashed like Zack's whenever he was overcome with excitement. However, as was stated, there was no warmth nor any true pleasure to be seen. Rufus unerringly shot at Vincent's location just as he caught the sound of his sabaton-clad shoes hit the earth. His weapon sang in tandem with _Cerberus_; three-barrel pistol meeting double-barrel shotgun in equal measures.

Vincent still didn't uncloak; but he was starting to suspect that its useless to keep it up. At this point, he merely kept it active just so his foe didn't have a face to commit to memory. He didn't need Shinra targeting him in the aftermath of this incident.

Rufus's aim couldn't have been truer; he knew _exactly _where to shoot at any given second. He even managed to clip Vincent's gauntlet; the latter just then bringing it to bear when he suspected Rufus was aiming at his gut. Just as Vincent dodged another volley and went into a jog that's border-line a sprint, Rufus followed him with no qualms nor any visible hesitation. The two ran parallel to each other down the street, missing and hitting and clipping and scraping the other. The president was using the dust clouds Vincent churned as a means of tracking him; but the former also didn't eliminate the possibility that Rufus was primarily using the sparks that flew from _Cerberus' _mouth to help him extrapolate a region in which to hit.

Rufus however was the first to go down as one of Vincent's shots finally grazed his shoulder; the shot having been meant for his face. Vincent however hadn't cared about sparing Rufus; although the attempt to kill him hadn't been truly genuine either. To be really honest, Vincent deliberately missed a shot or two just to be sure; and only aimed for Rufus' vitals in anticipating the other would dodge or flee.

As soon as he saw Rufus go down, Vincent decided that enough was enough. He harrumphed, holstered the smoking _Cerberus_ and leapt away; choosing that moment to let live the one person he felt wasn't a necessary end to Zack's means at this juncture. Killing Rufus now wasn't something he'd set out to do today. In the real grand scheme of things, Vincent knew it wasn't his place to shoot the president.

_No. It is for another_, bespoke a gender-less, toneless, inflection-less other at the back of his mind. _Rufus' fate is not for me to decide. His premature death shall accomplish nothing today except sow more chaos than we can endure. _

He harrumphed at this.

_...Besides, his underlings would profit from his demise; and it will ultimately complicate Zack's mission and draw more attention to AVALANCHE than they've already garnered. They will be blamed for Rufus' death; with Scarlet and Heidegger coming after them again in earnest and endangering Aerith in the process. _

_So... not today, Mr. President. Not today. Not I... But, if you do attempt to threaten the girl again- _He inwardly promised, _I will come back, and I __**will **__finish the job. You will never see this Promised Land you seek._

Vincent looked back, catching sight of Rufus' glacial gaze as it remained locked generally upon the disturbance of air and leaves whirling around the former. Rufus' golden hair ruffled in the wind, his coat of white stained red as it dyed his shoulder and arm. He impassively watched Vincent go without actually seeing him, but let him go he did; without another shot exchanged likewise. Whatever was going through Rufus' head remained a perpetual enigma, but Vincent believed he could hazard a guess:

Perhaps, the president himself had figured the same- that his opponent didn't seek his end. Nonetheless, his azure gaze remained as stiffly cryogenically cold and vast as a sub-zero winter-storm in the North; the whirling tempest a promise to bury all within its frigid, new-fallen snows. It betrayed his willing ability to starve and freeze; to quench the light of all embers that burned within the masses. Whatever Rufus cannot control, he would take away; his measured, withering stare the very mask of cool-headed calculation.

And even the unshakable Vincent Valentine couldn't help feeling the faintest dregs of dread upon seeing it; and still he'd feel this way _long _after he'd reunite with his comrades later on in the eve. He just couldn't quite put a finger on it, but something about this young man just didn't seem _human_-

And all this, coming from someone who wasn't even mortal himself. One who couldn't die, even if he so desperately _**wanted **_too.

_Ironic, given the circumstances_, he humorlessly wondered.

Well, one thing was for sure; he never wanted to meet Rufus Shinra ever again. Anytime he ever went head-to-head with him would be all too soon.

* * *

~777~

...

It didn't matter if he was or wasn't who she believed him to be; as she knew fear was the one tangible barrier that had always strove to exist in-between them.

Fear of showing her who he was; fear of letting the worse come to pass- fear to fail her and let she suffer behind Shinra cages.

Zack or Glaive, fear of losing Aerith to Shinra greed in some way or another was the one thing both SOLDIER and Turk shared- and this she now knew for _certain_. Although both strived to hide it; Aerith knew enough by now to see the fear where others saw the illusion of unfeeling, measured calm. She'd seen it slip the cracks back at the Costa Del Sol; and she'd seen it again when she'd properly locked eyes with him for the _very _first time in Rocket Town.

She'd never properly meet his gaze up until just today; the man doing his damnest to keep all onlookers at bay. At the ship and the beach, he'd kept his head ducked in a submissive, anxious way; unable to retain solid stares for more than fluttering, imaginary seconds. He blinked and turned and remained as stiff in his gestures as possible; as if fearful his very mannerisms would betray him. He balled his fists in clenched anxiety, his shoulders staying squared. From an outsider's perspective, he truly did come off as an intimidating wall that proved too high to climb-

...But she better. She knew she could scale this great barrier and glimpse the man beyond- if she went the distance. Aerith was a people person; and she knew where pain existed even when one bluffed their lack of it. And as Cloud said, Aerith had seen enough- she'd seen into his mako-charged eyes in Rocket Town-

And she knew their gentle glow was all too _familiar_.

No Turk has ever had warm, concerning eyes like _his_. No Turk would stand idly by and watch Palmer die the way he did; and no Turk would ever seek to actively help any members of AVALANCHE beyond Aerith's safety. And they'd certainly never broken character underneath any given circumstance.

After recovering from her bout of nausea from their unforgettable flight, Aerith watched the man in front her as of this moment. She could see his shaking dread prompting him to keep his distance; she could detect the exhaustion that rendered his movements jittery. He sat upon one of the _Tiny Bronco's _wings at a distance that betrayed his innate unease, typing on his phone a response to his partner or other familiars.

Aerith remained sitting in the secondary cock-pit, with Cloud himself having moved down the vehicle's body to rest at its tail. The Buster Sword lie on the opposing wing to act as a counter-balance to Glaive's position. The blond was now complacently dangling his bare feet in the cool sea-water; having finished cleaning Palmer's blood from his now ruined sleeping tee. He laid it flat on the slanted surface next to him to let the sun dry it out; although its safe to say it was garbage at this point. Cloud was now sitting shirtless; holding onto his socks and boots while kicking at passing waves. On occasion, his neon-tinted crystal eyes flashed to Glaive with suspicious and abrasive scrutiny; narrowing his brows and thinning his lips like he was daring the other to look up.

Glaive did no such thing however; keeping his head ducked like a wounded dog that had been ruthlessly kicked. He made himself look as small as possible; despite his generally large, imposing and muscular stature. He sat with his legs crossed some moments, gaze leveled somewhere at his lap. His blades were in the primary cockpit where he'd left them.

Aerith felt horrible as she looked on, not sure whether or not to approach him while the opportunity was miraculously presenting itself; or to keep her distance out of respect. She could tell Glaive didn't want anything to do with them; but she wasn't sure if its for the reasons Cloud may think. Tifa's words from before their arrival to Nibelheim continued to surface; the possibility of this reclusive man truly being Zack Fair confounding her over and over:

It thrilled and frightened her in equal measures; with the Ancient wishing Glaive would just look up at her _for Minerva's sake_. Anything, any given sign that he wanted to talk to her- SOMETHING. His profound lack of interest in engaging Aerith had _really _stumped her as it is. Normal Turks at least _tried _to talk to her; if for professional reasons. But this guy? He was too damn afraid to utter more than two words to her. Literally!

To be honest, Aerith herself was somewhat afraid of him; but not as you'd expect: She was afraid to know if this enigma was either Zack, or somebody else _entirely_. Either answer terrified her in a plethora of ways:

If he really _was _Zack, then she couldn't help wondering what was keeping him so distant and so quiet. Zack's father suggested that his son could be in a whole mess of trouble, and he wouldn't feel inclined to reach out to his loved ones if he truly believed his peril would become their own. He's characteristically tried to conceal his hurts in the past; especially after some particularly disastrous missions.

-Not that it mattered to Aerith. She would've wanted him near anyways; but she also knew that Zack wouldn't _dare _bring any harm around her if he could avoid it. And if he really was disguising himself for a sound reason, she wouldn't doubt its because he wanted Shinra to believe he's gone. But to hide _with_ the Turks, amongst them, as _ONE _of them... now that's the part that confused her.

Now, if he _was_ somebody else entirely, she wasn't sure why he'd behave the way he did. Glaive's reclusive nature was certainly Turk-like, but it had a forced air to it that made it thickly tangible. Its like he was holding his breath at all times; unable to get a moment to breathe and not alert anyone to his existence. In every sense of the word, he really was trying to make himself disappear in whatever way he could.

On a side-note, Aerith knew she'd be earnestly disappointed if Glaive wasn't Zack. Tifa told her not to get her hopes up; and to not try anything when they inevitably see the Turk again- but Aerith couldn't help it. As she once told Nanaki back before Gongaga, she _wanted _to talk to Glaive; whether or not she was afraid of him. Even if he was or wasn't Zack, she'd still want to know the person who risked both his life and the worsening of his pre-existing injuries just to protect she and Cloud.

-And she knew he still had them; as she noticed when he had her pressed against the shed when he cloaked her. She'd caught the rigid, irregular draw of every bated inhalation. Even the way he held it within himself had been perverted; as if he was being stabbed _repeatedly _by dozens of tiny thumb-tacks all around his frantically hammering heart.

As for the aforementioned Cloud, why _would _a Turk want to take his blood anyway? Not that long ago, they'd been butting heads in progressively more violent ways that left nothing to the imagination about just how much the Turks had wanted Cloud _gone_. Cloud was no friend of theirs; so one would think Glaive wouldn't have bothered shielding someone whose fully capable of defending himself- let alone take his blood for research purposes- _AND _defend him on the side. Besides, Cloud had the Buster Sword; so he technically hadn't _needed _the shielding spell.

_So why bother? _Aerith couldn't help wondering. _Is someone ordering this injured man to protect Cloud? Why would they want that? Was it a request from a friend? Did Zack ask the Turks to watch him? Or is this man Zack and he just wanted to watch over us personally? The latter would technically make more sense... _

With that said, maybe it really _was _Zack beneath that hood- as Tifa had suspected. His tinted goggles would help corneal his mako-enhanced charge; but it wasn't much help once you knew what to look for. The man's size and frame was comparable to SOLDIER as it is; not to mention the reasoning for his injuries- With their level of presumed severity, Tseng wouldn't _ever_ let an injured Turk brother engage in a mission with AVALANCHE to begin with.

The more Aerith scrutinized him, the more convinced she inwardly felt: This man just _had _to be him. There couldn't be any question about it. Why else would he bother to put himself to such extremes to see them safe? Reno, Rude, Tseng himself, maybe even Cissnei... _they _would've left Cloud on the ground when the _Tiny Bronco _took flight.

But not _this _man.

_Not to mention how strong he is, _Aerith figured. Even now, she could still feel the slight bruising of his hold; even if it was meant to protect her from that one SOLDIER in Palmer's guard. _It didn't matter if he did or didn't have materia to help him make that jump with all of us under his arms... He's definitely much too strong to be a Turk; even if muscly Turks aren't out of the question. So unless he really is a new, off-shoot elitist branch of SOLDIER, Turks or something else entirely, he couldn't have gotten that strength from anywhere else. _

"Okay!"

Aerith briefly darted a glance at the front of the plane; watching Cid snap the hood shut after having spent the better part of an hour trying to patch the _Tiny Bronco_. He threw his tools into the bag Shera was holding for him; said bag having come from a compartment inside the primary cock-pit. The woman zipped it up and smiled, watching contentedly as Cid eagerly pumped himself up in a way to forcefully instill some cheer back into the group.

"Fucking Hells it was a lotta work, but I managed to fix the engine," he blithely announced. "We can sail this thing back to shore now. It may not fly anymore, but at least we can still drive it over land or sea- once I fix the chassis. Thanks for the help," he added rather gruffly at the end, despite not looking at Shera as he said it- even though she was the intended recipient of said gratitude.

The woman blinked at him in a seemingly flustered daze, but then smiled and shot to her feet. "It was my pleasure," she replied just over the sea wind. "I'm just glad we were able to salvage some use for the old girl."

Cid passed her a look Aerith found divisive; as if caught between his consternation of wanting to lecture her about saving his life, or earnestly wanting to say something nice for a change. If anything, Aerith wouldn't doubt Cid wanted to settle upon the former (if out of reflex), but it just wasn't the time to do so. Moreover, there was a lot of other things they had to discuss at the moment.

Cid turned and appraised every individual present; his face dipping into a scowl as he eyed Cait Sith. Earlier on when they first crashed out here, he'd yelled himself _hoarse _at the feline for hot-wiring his plane and taking off the way he did. The rest of the group had been largely silent in that whole span; too afraid to speak up in the cat's defense. Cid himself had been _plenty _vocal about the state of his _baby_; yelling a dangerous, colorful, and corrosive slew of curse words in a ghastly torrent Aerith had never thought possible. The feline was unable to formulate an appropriate answer despite being a usually composed machine. Its like someone had asked him to divide by zero or something.

Whatever the case, Cid turned to look at Cloud and Glaive, his expression marginally softer. "You two," he gesticulated with a jabbing motion with his newly lit cigarette. "Thanks for keeping Shera safe. I've been meaning to say that for the last while, but yunno-" He shot the cat another glare, "-Distractions aside."

Cloud scoffed, jerking his shoulders at the chain-smoker like its no big deal. Glaive did not react at all though.

Shera suddenly dipped her head into something like a reverent bow, her expression reflective, "Thank you again... _All _of you. I'd imagine Shinra would've made our lives jointly, no matter what decision we would've made, into a living Hell in some way or another. But I have to ask-" She fixed her suddenly withdrawn and pensive gaze onto Glaive in particular, "-Aren't you a _Turk_? As in... a part of Shinra's Administrative Department of Research-?"

Cid's gaze immediately shot to him as well; with Glaive shuffling his shoulders like he was uncomfortable with the following conversation. Aerith was just able to catch the anxious flash of _Oh no I saw this coming _within his withdrawn gaze before he settled for absolute blankness. Cid however didn't seem to notice, or just didn't care.

After taking another drag of his cancer-stick, Cid than inquired, "Yeah. I find it weird you'd do such a thing. Last I checked, Turks dress in tuxedos or some shit, right? Why the fuck would a Turk want to help these bozos piss off Shinra and not wear a stupid penguin-suit in the process-?" He squinted, "...Unless you're somebody under-cover. Or some sorta new branch of Shinra I haven't heard of-?"

Shera shook her head and looked at Cloud, "Didn't you say he _is _one?"

Cloud took his feet out of the water and faced Glaive, resting an arm on a drawn-up knee. "He was hangin' out with one, that I do know. Her name's Sissy or something," he waved it off. "...Even if I'm somehow wrong and he isn't a Turk of any kind, he's _still _a Turk's guard dog. He takes orders from them easily enough-"

"...Cissnei," Aerith gently corrected, although her tone was marginally stiff. "He's Cissnei's _partner_," she asserted.

She didn't much care for Cloud's salty commentary this time around; although she wasn't sure why this was the case when she'd so readily tolerated it before. She even found Cloud's earlier demeanor humorous in the past because it meant she could knock him down a few pegs; a challenge for her to scale while getting to know the _real _Cloud buried beneath the bravado. But towards Glaive, she didn't much like his unwarranted tone and general apathy- especially since Glaive may possibly be Cloud's long-lost friend.

Cloud jerked his shoulders casually, but his face reflected his repentant nature. He scratched his head sheepishly, deciding to employ less of the sarcastic commentary as he surveyed Aerith's chastising expression. "-Rust-hair, Sissy, Cissnei," He loftily added on. "-It really doesn't matter. Again, all we know is that he's their _companion _or something."

"...Huh. Is that right?" Cid folded his arms, eyeing up the incrementally larger man sitting forlorn at the end of his plane's wing. "Well, he's certainly glum enough to pass as one."

Glaive said nothing, keeping his legs folded and hands neatly tucked into his lap. He also gave no indication that he heard anything beyond Cid's original address.

Cloud's earlier scowl returned at the lack of reaction, as well as his suspicion and wariness. Aerith heard a thoughtful grunt escape him, "...I understand why protecting Aerith is a necessity and all, but... not so much for me. I have a history with these guys." He passed Cid a brief glance before firmly arresting it back onto Glaive again, "-Turks don't really like me very much. When we lived in Midgar, they did whatever they could to make my life, as well as the lives of my friends as _miserable _as possible. In all that time though, I never saw _**this **_guy. If I didn't know better, I'd think he's a recent addition or something. Maybe in training."

"Why would they have a guy in training do field work?" Shera inquired politely.

"Man-power shortage," Cloud replied, having likely remembered Elena's very recent promotion. "Although, I've never seen this guy in a Turk's uniform. You'd think they'd give him one before sending him out to do this job. Huh, Aerith?" He added at the end as he passed her a look.

Aerith hummed, having long-since pondered the very same, "Elena is still new, but at least she _has _a uniform. I wonder if they just didn't have one in his size made yet or something-?"

_Not that Tseng would've __**ever**__ sent a trainee to protect me anyways... not after what happened to my birth mother, _she recalled grimly._ He'd much rather personally do the job himself, had that been the case._

"So, which is it?" Cid barked, albeit his tone was warm. "Turk or trainee? We're not gonna stay complete strangers here. I'd like to know the guy who thought saving innocent lives- including the lives of those whose supposed to be enemies, is better than his damn job for a change."

Glaive's rust-flecked eyes flashed upwards, his expression unreadable. He then glanced around at the entire group; but his stare lingered marginally longer on _Aerith_ more than anyone. He huffed, his chest shuddering like he took in a breath too fast and a stabbing sensation had bloomed somewhere. Aerith couldn't help frowning at the sight of it.

Cid's brow slanted at the continued reticence, his foot drumming up that furious tapping again. He may have noticed the discomfort though; seeing as his gaze had dipped into something between curiosity and concern. "Well shit..." he grumbled. "You _still_ outta breath or something? I won't ask ya to spend anymore energy answerin' some stupid questions if that's the case."

The assumed Turk passed Cid his fullest attention and frowned at some passing thought, and then huffed again as if in resignation. Meanwhile, Aerith watched from the corner of her peripherals as Cloud's expressions flip-flopped between contemplative and wary. Cait's ears pricked too, tail swishing in semi-contained anticipation.

And then, much to everyone's befuddled shock, Glaive finally _did _say-

"...Tired," he reciprocated in this gruff, genuinely weary sounding undertone. His voice cracked in some places; as if the very wind traveling through his chest wasn't flowing as it should. "-Just... tired," he emphasized with a piteous shrug.

This development was so novel; so damning in every respect. Aerith felt her heart giddily leap unseen within her breast as she absorbed the very phenomena of having heard his _voice_\- the very thing he'd been so fiercely protecting all this time. He must've felt like he was in truly dire straits though- seeing as his reticence, even if he was or wasn't a legitimate Turk, would only continue to appear suspicious. In this instance, sparing even a properly placed word or two would encourage no one else to probe him for anymore questions.

Aerith had also noticed his eyes dart back to herself in passing; but they were quickly back onto Cid before she could make anything out of it. _So he really __**isn't **__a mute, _was her next thought, the girl feeling her eyes narrow. _I knew it._

Shera meanwhile had fixed her glasses more securely, her gaze suddenly repentant. Seeing how uncomfortable the other had become, she caught onto it and said, "Ah. Well then, I'd imagine you would be after that whole debacle in the back yard." She smiled at him next, "I'd like to apologize for that, by the way. I was only in the way the whole time-"

Cloud snorted and snappily inserted, "That wasn't _your _fault though. Palmer and Randy were the-"

"Rufus," Aerith corrected with a giggle.

"-Erm, well, the fat-man and whats-his-face are to blame for that. Not you," Cloud harrumphed. "-Besides, its not like you'd expected they'd turn around and do that. Yunno?"

Shera's next smile was strictly for Cloud this time, her gaze softer. "-I still appreciate the effort you _both _put into protecting us. If it wasn't for the quick defense and even quicker escape, I think we _all_ would've been done in. I can't help thanking you for that." She dipped her head at Glaive exclusively this time, "I may not understand the reasoning for it, but you didn't have to put your life at risk for a complete stranger; and right up against your own employers. With that said, you have my thanks. _Really_."

Glaive this time lifted his chin, his goggles briefly catching the afternoon sunlight as he acknowledged her gratitude with a faint nod in return. Aerith thought she saw his expression incrementally soften from that rigidly stiff one he'd been hiding behind; but again, she couldn't see enough of his face to be sure.

"Now then!" Cid excitedly clapped his hands. "There's somethin' else that's been botherin' me-" He turned to Cloud this time, snuffing out his cigarette on his work glove and throwing the butt into an ash-tray in the primary cock-pit. Once he straightened himself back to his fullest height, he said, "I can't help wonderin'... Shera tells me you went and cut into the fat-man like you're splitting a Wall-Market hooker's legs. What's with that anyways?"

Cloud winced at the simile; and Aerith couldn't help doing the same. The Ancient thought she heard the smallest _Snirk _from Glaive, but she wasn't sure. The sea-breeze had at that second blown in strongly enough to drown out any noise he could've made.

"-What I don't understand," Cid went on, folding his arms and tapping his foot. "Is why you'd do a damn fool thing like that... unless you're _trying _to get Shinra on your ass like white on rice. So why da hell would you kill a Shinra exec and risk catchin' Holy Hell anyways?"

Cloud passed Cait and Aerith glances, as if in consideration of his following response. But then, upon weighing the repercussions of telling him, Cloud just huffed and flat-out said, "We're AVALANCHE. You've probably heard of us-?"

"The Terrorist cell that likes pissing on Shinra's good time?"

"The same," Cloud shrugged, like its no big deal at all.

While his arbitrary reply had surprised his comrades, Aerith inwardly understood that dodging around the reasoning was now moot- Especially after what just happened with Palmer. As it were, the answer wasn't that unusual compared to Glaive's general behavior. By all rights and purposes, Cid probably would've even figured out Cloud and the rest were AVALANCHE after a little thinking.

Once again went Cid's foot, the tapping marginally louder. He scanned the group in vague disbelief and then asked, "This _can't _be all of ya-?"

Cloud shook his head, "The rest of us are still at the main land. Shinra's been trying their best to stamp out the few of us that're still around-" His next smirk was that cocky one Aerith always found both endearing and concerning; the blond's eyes briefly darting to Glaive as if to challenge the legitimacy of his next snide remark, "-But to _little _success. Its embarrassing really."

Cid harrumphed, "Well, ya got some balls on ya, I'll give you that much. But you're still a bunch of dunder-headed cracked fuck-tards with no sense of restraint."

Once again, Cloud shrugged like he didn't care.

Cid cracked a smirk, his face suddenly lighting up like some grandiose epiphany was blossoming upon him. "Yunno... I gotta say, you guys do know what yer doin' is absolutely insane, right? And stupidly, _uselessly _suicidal."

"-And?" Cloud casually reciprocated. "Its not like we're given us much choice. Shinra's already taken away damn near anything else that woulda mattered. In some way or another, its like how you said-" Cloud shook his head, "-Shinra has screwed us all _royally_. So what else can we do?"

Cid chuckled, "So, how may of ya are left? And, are the lot of ya lookin' for any new recruits?"

"Captain-?" Shera's tone betrayed her budding unease, her expression suddenly guarded.

Cloud merely blinked at him, wondering why the man would ask. "What, you want in or somethin'-?" he pressed.

"Hell _YEAH _I want in!" Cid eagerly swung an arm and pumped it, his grin brighter than the afternoon sun. "I mean, you ass-hats got some _real _spunk on ya! Crazy as ya are, I like that about ya." He planted his hands on hips and bellowed out a gusty, belly-deep laugh that carried easily over the wind. "If you guys need a pilot, you're lookin' at the best in the whole damn world! Even though my baby's wings got clipped-" His expression grew sterner there, "She can still carry us wherever we need to go! At least weight won't be an issue anymore- given there ain't that many more of ya."

Cloud blinked and flashed glances at Cait and Aerith equally, his expression skeptical at first. He turned back to Cid, "What, you're really giving up your position in Shinra that easily?"

Cid decided on another cigarette here, carefully drawing out another stick and lighting it before he returned an answer. After blowing out some smoke, he said, "There ain't anymore position _left_. Shinra's done took away everything I ever lived for- in just _one conversation! _Can ya believe that?" He snorted sardonically, "And now, my plane's been shot down, they tried ransoming Shera to get me to give them a new military weapon, and that damned Rufus pissed me off with that lofty High-and-mighty attitude of his. I say _fuck_ that brat and his uppity, stuffy bull-shit."

He looked over the waves towards the general direction of the town, "I'm willing to bet that if I went home now, Shinra would try to shiv me another one when I lower my guard. I know this much: they don't tolerate insubordination; no matter if it comes from a SOLDIER or a pencil pusher." He locked eyes with Cloud again, "I can't go back, nor will I. I got nuthin' else tethering me to the ground. Might as well jump on the crazy train you got goin', right?"

Cloud's next expression did noticeably lighten; letting slip the smallest chuckle at that. He stood up and sighed, straightening his spine and cracking it as he let slip whatever other tension had remained. "I'm not the leader," he told Cid, his tone matter-of-fact. "But then again, you don't need the leader's permission to jump in on this. Most of us here joined in a rather unconventional way anyway. So I think its fair to say the more the merrier." He shot Cid another smirk, "Welcome aboard."

The older man guffawed heartily, "I should be the one tellin' _you _that!" He gesticulated at his plane, as if to physically indicate the whole vessel. After taking another casual drag of his cigarette though, he turned to Shera and mellowed. "-I'm not trying to leave ya in the dust here," he said, although not unkindly. "-But I won't ask ya to follow me into this bull-shit; cuz I know you're too damn eager to throw your life away for me as it is. So, what're ya gonna do? Whatever decision you make, I can at least help you see it through..." He scratched his head, "Given it ain't somethin' suicidal or detrimental to yer health in any way."

Shera clasped her hands together, unable to formulate a proper answer. She hung her and head huffed, "...I can't go back to Rocket Town myself; for very much the same reasons as you said. But I really don't see myself acting as any functional help in AVALANCHE in any way-"

"...Cosmo Canyon," Cloud immediately interjected. "Maybe you can go to Cosmo Canyon and stay there for a bit? You can tell Bugenhagen you're a friend of ours, and he'd happily let you stay and you can help him out. Red's been saying his grandpa needed some help around his lab."

"He has a lab?" Shera asked in disbelief.

Aerith eagerly fielded this query, elated about Cloud's suggestion. "Actually, he has an entire _Observatory_," She drawled out; giggling when she saw Shera and Cid's brows jointly jump to their temples in shared excitement. "You can easily make a living somewhere in Cosmo Canyon if you just ask, if for a little while."

"And the buggy!" Cait Sith jumped. "We can sail this thing past the Nibel mountains and tell her where to find the buggy! She can go to Cosmo with it!"

Cloud nodded to both suggestions, and then turned to Shera, "If you're willing to walk the distance or rent a chocobo, you can find our buggy just outside Nibelheim's furthest border fence and drive it to Cosmo Canyon and get sanctuary there. For all I care, you can keep it." He shrugged, "Its not like we need it anymore. As for the old man, Bugenhagen has some pretty decent tech. So maybe you can find some use with it to help us out from your location there, probably."

Shera's earlier morose hesitation cleared, her doe eyes suddenly a livid fire too huge to douse. "I can do that," she nodded, happy to find some way to repay them. "Whatever it takes!"

Cid dramatically pointed towards the east, "Alright then, knuckleheads! We have a new goal and a destination set! I say, let's stick it to those Shinra cock-suckers-!" He then darted a quick glance at Glaive, "Eh, not that I'm counting _you _in that equation..."

Glaive huffed, the sound of it almost like he didn't really give a damn. It was either that, or he was just too tired to really notice.

Whatever the case, Cid eagerly threw himself into the primary cock-pit and carefully moved Glaive's blades into a compartment under the seat. He then whipped out the spare keys to the _Tiny Bronco, _probably something he carried on his person at all times. He revved the engine into life with a jubilant holler; unable to contain his delight at having a goal set in stone. Shera meanwhile went and carefully maneuvered around the plane to help micro-manage it; inspecting the vessel for anymore problematic damage as well as basic maintenance.

Aerith meanwhile felt her treacherous gaze return to and remained fixed upon Glaive; watching the man fold into himself and sigh again like he just dodged a bullet. He was seen taking out his phone and typing on it for another minute, but then he promptly stuffed it away and let his head slouch closer to his chest. His very air betrayed his exhaustion; the man eventually slumping back until he was laying flat upon the _Tiny Bronco's _wing. His long limbs stretched out around him; the wind and light doing nothing to make his distinctive features any more noticeable.

Aerith, despite knowing she should stay seated to keep from falling into sea during rough patches in surf, still settled upon taking her chance. She knew Cloud wasn't going to like it; nor would Tifa, Nanaki, or anyone else for that matter. But she wasn't going to let her fear of knowing who he was or what her friends say dissuade her.

_I told myself I'll do this... and by Minerva's Holy Light I'm gonna do it, dammit. If one of us has to speak up first, then I guess it'll be __**me**__._

Aerith felt her features pinch, and then greasily slipped out of the cock-pit just as Cait Sith went to settle in with her. At the sight of her moving unerringly towards the man, he said, "Oi lassie, you ain't thinkin' of actually _talking _to him, are ya? Yunno he won't-"

"Still doing it," she interrupted, not giving a hot damn about what he had to say- not that she was trying to snub him on purpose. Her excitement had merely rendered her response coarse, if anything.

Cloud watched her creeping progress across the plane's more sloped curvature, his expression wary and stern. He sighed, and then he grabbed her arm and held her steady. He pulled her close and hissed just over the wind, "-The Hell do you think you're doing? I know he's not a threat to you, but this guy still rubs _**me **_the wrong way-"

He tossed the prone Glaive another glance, and then he focused on Aerith again. "He's fucking unpredictable as it is; with him acting all out of sorts for a Turk." His teeth bared, his tone lowering further, "...He didn't even try to defend Palmer like he's _**supposed **_to do. He has that time materia on him too, remember? He could've easily used that on me to stop me from killing Palmer. Instead, he just sat idly by and bailed us out of trouble." His stare hardened still further, "You _know _that's not something a real Turk does- especially after what we saw in Sector Seven. They _proved _they don't give a damn about the repercussions of their actions unless its to keep their own skins intact."

Aerith passed Cloud an equally fervent glance, matching her tone with his, "And that's what bugs me about him! With all that's been said and done, I _know _he isn't a proper Turk... and I also know he isn't a danger to _**us**_. Remember what Cissnei said back on the freighter?" She squinted at Cloud, her gaze now focused inward at the recollection, "-_He isn't our enemy_, she said. And he also defended us then too, remember? Besides, you didn't have that much of an issue with me talking to him back in Rocket town-"

"You told me you only wanted to know his name. Not his life story!" He cut in. Cloud's nose then wrinkled, his mako eyes a flashing mutiny that betrayed his disbelief at Cissnei's earlier proclamation. "And what about Runen, then? What do you think _that _was?" His tone became cuttingly sarcastic, "He couldn't have taken my blood just because they're suddenly concerned for my 'well-being'-? I betcha a thousand gil that they're studying me for some sorta thing relating to their science department- _Or _they're looking for a weakness to exploit."

Aerith frowned at him, somehow finding the sarcastic commentary hilarious in an ironic way. From what she recalled, Cloud had unintentionally hit the nail right on the head: Tifa having told her about her encounter with Tseng in Gongaga in further detail after they checked in at Runen; his words more troubling then her current situation:

_"Tseng kept on asking me about Cloud's mental state," she'd said. Her gaze appeared troubled as she added, "...And he claimed that Cloud's past as one of SOLDIER was a __**lie**__."_

_Aerith blinked rapidly and rattled her skull, still turning over the wax-sealed letter from the inscrutable Turk Head himself. She crumpled the paper on occasion, unable to summon the will to have burned it before departing Gongaga. Despite the clear instructions to torch it to help eliminate any traces, Aerith had kept a firm hold of it just to read over and over. Her mind raced as she weighed Tifa's full disclosure._

_"A... a lie? He said that-?" she mumbled._

_Tifa nodded, resting her hands on her lap and shifting on the bed in their guest room. "...He did, yeah. And he mentioned Hojo too-" Her wine eyes hardened, "-He also said that all of our questions can be answered if we found him first. Hojo presumably knows why Cloud has been acting the way he is- or so Tseng claims."_

_"But what does Hojo have to do with Cloud?" Aerith wondered aloud. _

_Tifa's stare was akin to a piece of sharpened obsidian; her eyes just as dark and glinting dangerously in the low-lighting of their shared quarters. "Nothing good, I'd wager," she sighed. "Anytime we ever heard Hojo's name come up in the past, something always did go tits-up. On that note-" She shuffled again, her stare continuously turning more and more bitter, "Tseng thinks Cloud has a sickness called J-Cell something-or-other. Can't remember the full name so well. He was dumping a metric-shit-ton of info on me so fast I barely had time to process it all."_

_She smiled next, although the gesture was clearly forced, "And now I can't help thinking if he did that deliberately just so I can't relay the information as accurately. Maybe."_

_"Hm. Well, while that part does sound like a tactic he'd employ," Aerith added on, lifting a hand to her chin. "-I still don't see why he'd go out of his way to tell you all the rest of that stuff..."_

_The former bar-tender heaved a beleaguered sigh as she considered the previous statement, "-The thing is... I may not know him like you do, but I couldn't imagine he'd hold back the info if he thought it may actually compromise __**your **__safety in some way."_

_"Are you telling me that Tseng thinks Cloud is dangerous somehow-?" _

_"That much, I can safely say 'yes' too," she'd grimly confirmed._

After having heard this, Aerith couldn't help that ridiculous flipping sensation in her gut- and its a feeling that still stubbornly adhered to her innards, even _now_. All this information, it rushed to the forefront of her mind as she eyed her blond companion; her gaze almost intimately inter-locked with his.

She suddenly realized that she'd spaced out; with Cloud studying her with renewed dubiety. She had taken a long time to process his earlier concerns; but all this information did was continue to prove her gut instincts correct.

_Zack may be studying Cloud for his well-being. However way Hojo is linked may elude us, _she figured. _-But I know we're bound to know if I can just __**talk **to him__._

With this in mind, she dipped her head as she said in a progressively lower and more concerned tone, "-Even if this is true, Cloud, this could still be my one chance to finally speak to him. He may not seem like it, but he's also actually _hurt_." She leveled Glaive a softer glance, "-I want to help him; and I want to understand why Tseng would let anyone, trainee or no, go on a job this dangerous in the first place."

Cloud clenched his jaw as his lips thinned again, likely fuming at the fact that he could _never_ talk Aerith out of whatever she decided upon. After a short while, he merely accepted this trait as a facet of her stalwart personality. However, he still had his qualms about this rogue enigma before them; and he was rightfully concerned about it. Still, Aerith just _knew _they weren't in any real danger around this man; and it wasn't because they were out in the middle of the sea and he was weaker than usual.

Aerith shook her head as she studied his scowl, letting Cloud know with looks alone that there isn't anything he could say to get her to think otherwise. So she said reasonably, "...Tseng never lets injured operatives out for just _any_ reason- man-power shortage or not. I want to understand why Glaive is so special, and why he thinks its necessary to stick his neck out there for not just me, but _you_." Aerith relocated her determined gaze upon the unmoving Turk, "You said it yourself; he has no apt reason for helping us, and I'm going to find out _why_. Some way or another, I'll get him to say something."

_Because he won't be able to shut me out, _she knew. _He thanked me before, didn't he?_

Cloud sighed as if exasperated with her words, but nonetheless relented, "...Ugh, _fine_. Personally, I still think this is stupid... but I guess if anybody can get him to speak up, its probably _you_." He jerked his head, "I'll be watching him from over there. I know he won't try anything, but I still don't trust him."

"You don't trust him because he did us a kindness-?" She asked, raising a mahogany brow at him.

Cloud snorted again, "Nobody ever does something life-endangering just 'cuz they felt like it- _especially _someone whose supposed to be a Turk associate. They usually have an underlying motive. Besides-" His stare turned chilling, "-I _never_ trust anyone whose stronger than _I _am. Remember how I told you he's strong enough to fight me, Tifa, and a summon, _**all at once**_?"

Aerith blinked and focused on Glaive again. "All the while he's injured too..." she added more to herself, having somewhat forgotten that little detail with all the excitement that has gone on. Technically, Cloud was right; he _was _more dangerous than the usual group of Turks following her around. If she wasn't so sure he was Zack though, she would've right then reconsidered approaching him.

"Right. So you get my point," Cloud shrugged. "I'm just saying; I'm not buying into anything he's selling- and you shouldn't be either. Just be careful. Okay?"

"I gotcha," she gently reciprocated, smiling at him all the more. "Thanks for being such a good bodyguard!'

Cloud blinked once, and then scoffed at the last comment. "Okay. I'll be watching you two _really _closely," he whispered, eyes darting to Glaive and then back to her. "Good luck."

Cloud released her only when he was certain Aerith wouldn't tip off of the wing. Aerith however kept on crawling until she stopped just shy of the other man. To act as a counter-weight on the plane's weight distribution as well as give them some semblance of privacy, Cloud reluctantly put some distance between himself and the pair. The plane continued straight, with Cid not noticing the change in position. Shera shot them uncertain glances, but didn't say anything as she continued inspecting and patching the _Tiny Bronco's _tail flaps at the rear; hoping to turn them into make-shift rudders.

Aerith sat and dangled one leg off of the wing's back flap, watching Glaive in quiet reverie as she tried to scrutinize whatever little detail can be discerned. As it is, from her position by his feet, she couldn't see past the muzzled respirator plate at the angle she sat. She rested some of her weight on one arm and rested the other in her lap, her braid's tail and loosened strands whipping playfully behind her.

"Heya," she said, loudly enough to get him to notice.

Glaive jerked; and then he sat up on his arms and blinked off whatever stupor he'd been in. He had dark rings around his eyes; that much Aerith could plainly see. And considering the amount of surprise that had briefly blipped by within his gaze, she was pretty sure he'd been dozing. Aerith felt bad about this, but it was too late to turn back now.

"So... uh... I know I asked your name before, but you didn't exactly give me an answer," she went on to say, hesitantly weighing what she felt he'd be most receptive to. "So now I just wanted to try running this by you: Your name _is _Glaive though, right?"

Yup, the profound shock that took hostage of his distant demeanor was rigidly taking hold; the man's usually aloof gaze suddenly stiffer upon his countenance like someone had painstakingly chiseled his eyes into granite.

_Glaive must be a Turk name and not his outward identity_; Aerith had quickly deduced.

To enlighten him, Aerith than clarified, "I heard another Turk use this name in passing some time ago. To be fair, she and her companions hadn't known my friends and I were spying on her; but she admittedly could've been a bit more careful..." She shrugged at him lopsidedly, "The new girl, Elena... she's not very tight-lipped, is she?"

Glaive blinked again, and then Aerith watched the man face-palm and drag it down his mask before lowering it again. He shook his head with a sigh that rasped behind the respirator, and then he apprehensively met Aerith's gaze. The girl could feel Cloud's icy stare over her shoulder; noticing Glaive's eyes narrow as it caught Cloud's own pair behind her. Aerith deliberately butted her head in-between the two mens' view, smiling her usual smirk in an effort to get him to relax.

"I wanted to ask you something else," she abruptly but smoothly informed him. She shook her head, not sure as to how she could word this without sounding so strange about it. She did try, "-I noticed something back when we were hiding... its something that was a little hard to miss."

Aerith deliberately fell silent so to evaluate his next flash of expression, to try to understand if there was anything else about it that rung as familiar to her. However, the man's gaze had become quite taciturn; and its a trait Aerith wasn't sure was restricted only to Zack whenever she'd pose more serious queries in the past. Sometimes, Zack would almost reflexively wear these scary blank faces when something _really _serious came up; but the same can be said for the Turks. She couldn't use this one reflex as a way of confirming his identity or not.

So she said, "Its about your breathing... it sounded... pretty bad." Her face noticeably fell, having at that moment truly felt the regret of not having cured this man's ailment. "I really _didn't_ heal it that well, did I?" she continued on in a weakening, demure tone.

Glaive's eyes softened at the corners, and then he dipped his head towards his chest in silent resignation. He looked back up at her again after a minute, his hesitant gaze steadily meeting hers for once. Whatever he saw there, she hoped was good enough to help him to break his reticence. She heard another slow, ragged breath; the motion obviously strained.

And then, he finally said:

"...Its not you," came his perhaps deliberately roughened timbre; a sound that was further accentuated by the respirator's natural rasp and craggy nature of his sore chest. His black brows slanted, as if in heavy consideration of his next words. He certainly seemed loathe to say, in the smallest, croakiest murmur ever, "...Its something that just can't be fixed easily."

Aerith couldn't help it: Deep within, she _knew _she could get him to speak up again in earnest. However, that little joy was short-lived, as she felt something else rather invasive furiously stab its way into her core- the dreaded idea that this man's injury, whether he was or wasn't Zack, was something that just couldn't be healed off. By the looks of it, he could have been to a legitimate medic in the past; if Tseng had been stern in forcing him to go.

_Although, it still baffles me about why Tseng would allow him to come after us in the first place._

Aerith felt her mouth part; her viridian gaze suddenly unable to meet his own. She swallowed thickly, funnily unable to picture the one and only Zack Fair actually getting hurt in such a way. He'd _never _let himself be hurt so seriously in the past, if to keep her from being afraid for his safety. Zack had always heroically come marching home with an easy, wolfish grin and loud proclamations of having been amazing in every little thing he did. He stood tall, hid his limp or bruise, and promised he'd always be back in one piece. Even some of his worst wounds had gone in mere _days_.

_...But not so much __**now**_, she drearily realized, seeing how he'd reluctantly but nonetheless willingly replied to her tentative query. The fact that he off-handedly admitted to being this way frightened her; and its something that replaced her earlier terror of not wanting the individual before her to be Zack or not.

No. This was another, wholesome, more worrisome fear with a more promising anchor into her soul- the very thing that encompassed all of her woes from several years ago. In the wake of his return from Nibelheim; a mission that had fucked up even the great _Sephiroth_ of all people, even Zack Fair hadn't escaped unscathed. And now, given this person in front of her really _IS _him, almost practically admitting that even a doctor couldn't fix it- It absolutely _horrified _her.

Glaive's gaze had by now narrowed, but in a vaguely concerned way. He eyed her steadily, noticing that she was taking far too long to reply despite having engaged him first- which was funny, seeing as she'd just done this with Cloud.

Aerith realized she had to be the one to push the conversation along, and so said, "Maybe... I don't know... Maybe I can try healing you again-?" she timidly offered with a weak lilt at the end, unable to come up with any better solutions. "I mean... if you'll let me," she muttered, half afraid he'll decline.

Glaive's eyes roved her once, the motion warily swift. He did consider this for what felt like the longest eternity ever; his breathing still a jerky, shallow, somewhat erratic pattern the times Aerith caught it escaping his mask. Eventually though, much to her delight, he bowed his head and nodded.

Aerith clapped her hands together at this, only too happy to oblige. The act would certainly make her feel better; if nothing else. That said, she scooched forward some more and pulled her legs until they were tucked neatly beneath her; carefully considering her next move: She didn't want to frighten him away, but Aerith had always been as forward as she needed to be. And as far as she was concerned, this moment was apt enough.

So, she slowly grabbed his left hand and pulled it towards herself; her grip initially hesitant but strengthening after some contemplative seconds. The gesture had definitely caught him off-guard, as expected, but she was inwardly belated to note that he didn't pull away. A good sign, she figured.

The woman sighed, trying to relieve her own tension as she measured the other before her. She turned his hand over and back again, trying to be as inviting as possible. "Now, I don't know _exactly _what you have that makes it so hard for you to recover," she said in the smallest tone ever, trying to keep Cait Sith from over-hearing too much. She knew the cat's senses were too good at times. He wasn't much more than a couple meters away anyways, so she had to be especially careful. She added on in a smaller voice, "-But I'd like to know so I can help you _properly_. If not... I'd understand."

She shrugged at him, her eyes resting briefly on her knees. "-I can only do so much blind though... But I'd also understand if its something you'd like to keep between you and your doctor- assuming you have one." She was sure to keep his gaze centered onto her own as she said next, "Still, I'd like to not flounder around in the dark here. I was always able to do more if I understood, even on a basic level, what I'm treating here. This is most effective for _me_, on that note. With that being said, if this bothers you at all, then you don't have to tell me. I'll just do like I did at the Costa Del Sol. Okay?"

_And then some._

Aerith waited apprehensively, her luminous gaze almost intimately interlocked with his own subtly glowing one. She could almost imagine the dreadful swallow of anticipation bobbing his apple, the girl catching just the slightest of movements of his eyes for any other cues. She couldn't see anything familiar or welcoming though; and she couldn't help being bothered by that.

_Even if he is Zack, he's so __**different**__. He's too strange, too distant. _She couldn't help thinking, _Even if we did start talking again, it won't be like it was then. I'd have to get to know him __**all **__over again, won't I? _

_But maybe... that won't be so bad. Maybe there's some part of this I can enjoy- Given he lets me in, first._

At a particularly rough bump in the surf, the pair bounced with the plane; but Aerith was able to steadily retain her position as she gripped him. Still she waited for him to say; or to at least physically indicate if he was or wasn't going to indulge the query. He studied her just as intensely; his eyes narrowing at some unforeseen thought.

And then he slowly extricated his hand from hers.

Aerith couldn't help the welling of an intense sadness build inside her; seeing the gesture for what it was. He was closing her off; and the act within itself was both baffling and hurtful in equal measures. Whatever had sealed his lips, whatever sinister reason had manipulated his every gesture, whatever troubles dogged him, whatever had rendered him so wary; he found that to be greater than his desire to be healed effectively.

No matter what form this danger took, it seemed to be pressing enough to keep even the aggravatingly talkative Zack Fair as grimly silent as the grave. Hypothetically, even if it was just she and Zack in the middle of the Golden Saucer desert with no one within a hundred miles of them, _still _he'd refuse to let her in.

From the very start, Aerith had always felt this barrier exist between them: The very thing she'd strove time and time again to tear down or climb over. Hell, she'd even tried to go _around _it; but still Zack's very core eluded her.

As a SOLDIER, he'd never been allowed to tell her a whole lot; which wasn't too surprising or unusual within itself. He didn't have much freedom in speech nor much choice to do so. He didn't want to worry her; although he's let himself fall to pieces in her arms some moments. In the wake of some of his worst missions, he let her glimpse his vulnerabilities-

-Just not the parts that made him a SOLDIER- and the repercussion of his decisions of being one. He never admitted to liking fights, but she couldn't help noticing the rogue smirk that crossed his lips when he lifted his blade way back when. She'd seen the moments when a fight did indeed _thrill _him. However, after knocking out a monster, he'd immediately look ashamed at some inner revelation and clapped on his blade with a jerky motion. He didn't look her in the eye, nor turned to face her after each encounter- he'd been too ashamed to look at her.

That _very_ first time she saw him fight, barely an hour after their initial meeting, was probably the moment that did it. He turned to look for some sort of glowing adulation, but got nothing in return but a horrified stare and a sharp reprimand to not show off. Sure, she said she'd felt safe with him; which hadn't been untrue, but after he admitted to being SOLDIER later on in the day, that encounter with a lowly Hedgehog Pie took on a whole other meaning. If he'd told her he was SOLDIER to earlier on, she didn't think she would've spent the entire day with him; let alone stay near when he drew his blade. He never took a life in front of her, maybe, but she could tell he's done it before.

Long and short of it, she'd never truly saw the worst parts of him- the parts that defined his SOLDIER characteristics. Perhaps he never wanted her to see that part of him that had made her so deathly afraid of SOLDIER to begin with; he was afraid it'll chase her away. It was kind of like why she never told him she was an Ancient; she didn't want him to see her as some sort of exotic novelty that had to be protected or- worse case, turned in to the science department. Both had wanted to be as close to a normal couple as possible- to keep her lineage and his morbid job out of the question.

And THAT'S the barrier that existed between them. The desire for normality, even when it proved elusive- an illusion. A fleeting dream.

_"Like a memory of a flavor you're fond of but you don't remember actually __**liking **__it," _she'd said to Cloud just last night.

That very first time he asked her if he looked 'cool' doing what he does best, her inability to say anything to him- Maybe this was why Glaive was walling her off: because its an old reflex he couldn't help adhering too. Or maybe its because he's a total stranger and just didn't trust her.

But no. He wasn't a stranger.

He was _**Zack**_.

And she knew this for certain now, the longer she absorbed the situation; the longer she stared into his familiar eyes.

On that note, she boldly took back Glaive's hand again; this time more forcefully. She could tell he wanted to draw it away again, but he wouldn't be able to reclaim it without knocking Aerith off-balance and giving her an impromptu dunk in the warm sea. So, Glaive somewhat resigned himself to the grip as she held it in place with a pronounced squeeze.

Her finger-tips dug pointedly into his palm as she pulled it towards her- closer to her heart. She thumbed the coarse material of his glove, closing her eyes as she mutely gathered her energy. Through touch alone, she took in the minute details of the material separating her hand from his; the size of his palm in hers- the weight of his limb as she held it to herself. She tried to find any hint of the familiarity within its loose hold; inwardly trying to encourage him to reciprocate the squeeze in any way. She heaved several times; letting her mind slip further and further into the recesses of her inner knowing-

_"Hold still," she said in chipped worry._

_"Aw, you want it your way then?" He'd teasingly prodded._

_"Ugh. Yes, if you'd just sit __**still**__, you dink," she huffed, her tone super-serious._

_He laughed in that way that let her know a lewd joke was long-since incoming. "I shoulda known my sexy smolder was too much," he'd loftily chortled, feeling Aerith's hands wander up and down his bare back. He straightened and turned to glimpse her over his shoulder, eye brows waggling suggestively. "Okay then, I guess you can have your way with me! Whatever way rocks your boat is fine."_

_Aerith rolled her eyes, "Oh my god Zack, will you just stop talking? Gross." _

_She shook her head as she continued rubbing away the old blood; the new wound a more recent addition from his latest job. The guy who tried to bandage her idiot here had shaking hands; not that he would've had to worry about Zack's health. He healed off the worst of his wounds rather quickly; with wounds like even this shallow, albeit large gash closing within hours. Zack had an annoying tendency to make up some rather weird (or suggestive) ways to down-play their severity though._

_Not that it didn't make her feel any better about it._

_Zack jerked a thumb to himself, "Aw c'mon, babe! This is some prime meat here! You can have your pick of the 'cut'. Get it?"_

_Aerith pinched her eyes shut and shuddered theatrically, "Wow Zack. That was bad, even for __**you**__."_

_"I'm just 'ribbing' ya," He went on. "Its not like I got 'beef' with ya!"_

_"Oh. My. God. SHUT UP," She hissed, unable to take just how horrible those puns were- not to mention concentrate on what she's doing._

_She finished wiping away whatever remained and squinted at the slit; noticing how despite its messy appearance, it had sealed wonderfully- long before she'd even gotten to it. For that matter, Aerith decided not to dress it and eyed the pair a little lower down. These two cuts were not even half the length, but their severity was in the fact that they were so __**deep**__._

_...Someone had taken a knife to him when he'd literally had his back turned. __**Violently**__, at that. _

_Aerith couldn't help her elevated anxiety levels as she learned to identify what these measly looking cuts were for what they really are: The first one must've shallowly grazed bone; while the second was a another attempt to get at his lung from behind. The jagged nature of the second puncture also suggested that Zack would've had to reach over his own shoulders to pull the offender off; all the while the man who treated him would've had to retrieve the blade still lodged within him._

_These were a __**genuine **__attempt on his life. _

_And she'd literally come __**THIS CLOSE **__to losing him. _

_For such a injury to be incurred, he would've had to be facing a foe at least his own strength; or greater. Or maybe a whole crowd of enemies with similarly matched prowess. It could be these 'Genesis copies' doing, or something else entirely. Its bad enough he had a whole slew of discolored skin on his front; let alone __**these**__._

_Aerith tamped down on her wild imaginings before they spiraled out of control. The scar on his face had frightened her the first time she saw it; no matter if Zack said it made him look cool. How many times did death come to plant him such a nice, huge, wet kiss right on his cheek? How many more times will it come knocking at his door? For it to invite him to its bed?_

_He must've had these hastily healed before he came here; so to not worry her about their severity. Right now, he was acting like they're small scrapes from tripping over his own feet; paying them no more never mind then one would a paper-cut. But Aerith had asked him the instant he came here to turn around and strip. She inspected every new injury he got; even when he'd already had it attended to by professionals or materia or otherwise._

_At her stern silence, Zack turned to look at her again; if this time to wonder why she was so silent. He raised a brow, "What, don't like your meat __**tenderized**__? Or did I say something to 'rind' your gears?"_

_Aerith blinked off her stupefied reverie at that, and then pushed him forward by his shoulders so to avoid his wounds. "You are TERRIBLE!" She indignantly replied. "There is nothing funny about this! You could've been seriously hurt or __**worse**__! In fact, you've already been __**hurt**__!"_

_Zack's expression mellowed, "Okay, I get it. You don't like red meat then. Or was it too well done?"_

_"Oh my god, can we be __**serious **__for this one stinking minute?" She sighed, pulling on his ear this time._

_He brushed off her arm and smiled winsomely, "So, maybe you like it __**raw**__?"_

_"UGH!"_

_Aerith almost lost her composure; but she was an expert in Zackinese. She knew he just wanted her to realize that he's okay. But this kind of wining streak of his won't last forever._

_She breathed this time; and then she placed the flat of her palm against the angry gashes. While these had closed some time ago, the pronounced bruising and discoloration around them was still plainly visible. In fact, one cut had cracked open up again just a tiny bit when he'd moved a certain way; not that she knew how. _

_**He must've encountered a monster on the way here**__, she thought with a frown._

_Aerith huffed and closed her eyes, opening her ears to the voices swirling around her. She strained her every sense to capture the faintest of calls that resonated within the church; some merely indistinct sounds or murmurs she couldn't quite make out. She beseeched to them; in her own wordless way, to listen to her pleas to heal this fool in front of her. She needed the guidance of the planet's discordant murmuring to help gain the energy necessary to heal and remove the wound's hindering effects on Zack's physique._

_When she healed people, sometimes she had to borrow energy from the planet itself; it had the ability to heal various infirmities as well as the human body naturally can, but at a rate to help speed it along. What could take months would only need days; if that. Zack's wounds, while not so bothersome for someone like him, would still remain long enough to interfere with his next job; once he got it __**soon**__. _

_And man doesn't danger just love Zack Fair's company._

_Aerith breathed again; the motion a slow, therapeutic draw that eased her fractured nerves. She felt the wound seal completely; the vibrant coloring going along with it. When she opened her eyes next, she was glad to see nothing remained of these ghastly injuries except thin white scars that crossed over the other existing small dozen all over his back. These were all permanent markers, but at least the newer wounds won't be a bother to him once Shinra called him in to run another shitty errand within the next day or two._

_"Oh WOW!" Zack boisterously flailed his arms and tried to reach behind his back, his finger-tips just managing to graze the silvery slivers. "Holy shit, Aerith. Wow. I don't feel a thing!" he excitedly grinned. "I dunno how you do that, but man it works! Come to think of it-" he scratched his head and then turned to face her. "-How __**did **__you do it anyways? Didn't you say you had a special materia or something-?"_

_Aerith's smile had faded somewhat; the gesture unintentional. She almost replied with, "You already know know why!"; but the girl immediately cut herself off. She'd never told him about her bloodline, nor has she said much about her special materia beyond a vague mention in passing; although she never understood why. She'd only almost said it aloud now because it should've been a big 'duh' between them. After all, he was friends with the Turks, so why wouldn't he know-?_

_Aerith however decided to go along with it, smiling her quaintest smile and nodding along with his earlier words. "Its a gift," she said as much. "From my mother."_

_**Which isn't untrue, in a sense.**_

_"Wow. Did she ever tell you where she got materia like that?" He inquired with that adorable tilt of his head. _

_Aerith shrugged, "She had it passed along to her from her mother. And so on."_

_"Ah."_

_Aerith straightened her face and then leveled him the most serious look ever, her lips stiff and shoulders slumped. "Zack," she began, immediately settling on a subject change. "Please. Do me a favor, and be honest with me." She leaned forward, watching the man's features slacken into confused tension. "Promise me," she uttered. "Promise me you'll let me know if something goes wrong-"_

_"Wha- huh?"_

_"__**Promise me**_**,**_" she beseeched, reaching her hands to encase both of his. "If you get in any trouble, ANY, and you need me to help you in any way... please let me do so. Whether its a new wound or- you know." She ducked her head upon remembrance of his tears when he lost his master. "-Or if its for something else. Just... __**please**__. Be straight with me; that's all I ask."_

_Zack flapped his lips soundlessly, and then his face did that weird blank-thing Aerith never liked seeing. There was no telling what he was thinking; no way to divine anything profound unless you knew what to look for within his eyes. And even then, Aerith still couldn't tell what he'd say; as if he's trying to wall her off in general._

_His jaw clenched, and then he reciprocated the squeeze, "...I'll try."_

_Aerith had her turn to flap her lips there. "-'You'll 'try'?" she muttered, her tone almost bitter._

_Zack's eerily vacant expression broke; the man suddenly ducking his eyes in a submissive way. "I promise I can try __**harder**__," he sighed. "-But I can't promise what I can't be sure of."_

_"Zack-"_

_His grip tightened, cutting her words short. "I promise to __**try**__. If something shitty comes to pass, it won't stop me from coming back to you. But... if its something Shinra related... you know I can't just say."_

_"I'm not asking if its Shinra related," she interjected. "I'm only asking if its __**you**__-related. Like, if you need to talk to ME and not some shrink. Or, if you need me to keep mending your worst wounds- no matter what form they take." She tried giving him her gentlest smile, "That's all I'm asking. That you promise you'll be straight about it, and not keep joking about it. I know you don't want to worry me, but I'm going to worry anyways. That's what girlfriends do, at the best and worst of times."_

_He eyed her, his intense azures resting firmly upon her emerald pair. "Well-" He replied with a slightly more chipper tone. "You'd have to be straight with me too! Its only 'Fair', right? Heh!"_

_"Oh my god. If I hear another joke like that come out of you, we're breaking up," She huffed as she loosened her grip on his much larger palms._

_Zack however kept his grip as strong as ever; but his own smile took on a much sterner note. "I'm serious," he dead-panned, so to leave no room for error. Sometimes, he knew Aerith couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, so he went on to say, "I want you to be straight with me too. And I guess, I can promise that in return. You'd have to let me know if the Turks are bothering ya or- yunno. __**Anything**__. Okay?"_

_"...I promise," she nodded._

_And much to her inner satisfaction, he said, "And so will I."_

And like a breath of fresh air, Aerith was able to, for all that she could detect, heal his wounds. Throughout this process, this memory had panned out behind her eye-lids like some kind of graying film reel. She felt its bitter-sweet remembrance take a tangible hold of her concentration; sometimes making her falter with distraction or jumping up in strength at its best moments. The recollection blended and merged seamlessly into the prayer; Aerith's conveyed desperation having a palpable effect on the man before her. For that matter, she hadn't needed to make any physical contact with him; as she was able to heal her friends' hurts from a distance many times before.

But this was different.

She needed him to see.

She needed him to know that she _knew_.

She heard Glaive huff with surprise; the sound shaky with advent shock as fresh air rushed freely into his body and back out again. He withdrew from her and patted his chest, and then he closed his eyes and _breathed_. The rush of oxygen was wholesome and even; uninterrupted with no stabbing pain and thorny vice. He did this several times, for maybe a whole minute or so.

Aerith could feel Cloud's eyes behind her, but retained her pleasant smile anyways as she watched Glaive take his few unhindered breaths with savory delight. His tightened facade relaxed, his brows losing their knotted hold upon his mako-charged eyes. He then put his hands to his lap, breathed some more, and then looked up at her with no lingering fear to be seen.

"_Thank you_," he replied with no sign of his earlier, croaky timbre. His words and voice had come out smoother; delivered with level but detectable elation. Beautiful relief was intimately intertwined with it; his smile easily reaching his eyes as he watched her.

"So... it worked? Like, _fully_?" she pressed, taking the moment to scrutinize his familiar tone. She clapped her hands together and smiled, feeling herself perk up at the sight of his own growing comfort.

He took in another long sigh for effect, and then nodded his certainty. His gaze certainly seemed brighter; that's for sure.

"Be straight with me," She asserted, deliberately picking these words to help concrete what she was already certain of. "If its not enough, I can try again."

The man suddenly frowned at her, "Its good, for now... But why would you want to do that anyways? You know you don't have any good reason to trust the Turks or their associates."

_He's being coy. He must've been around Cissnei for so long, _she suddenly realized. She didn't know why saying this bothered her so much, but she decided it was a trivial thing to linger over. So she pushed it aside.

Aerith couldn't help feeling like the feline behind her may be listening in, so she knew she wouldn't be able to say so much. She wanted this to be just between _them_, and not anyone else. Not even Cloud was included in that equation.

She felt her lips thin, making sure to meet his flickering gaze with a more solid one of her own. "That's a lie," she said stiffly, frankly. "I know the Turks aren't _all _my enemies- Just their employers. And while I understand that the Turks aren't... the best people around, I know I can at least trust their word: When they say they'll do something, they do it. Even though their intentions do elude me, at the best of times."

Aerith tried to levelly keep Zack's attention on her own face as she said in a slightly lower voice, "-Not that that matters right now. I just want you to know that if this- whatever it is- flares up again... you don't have to be afraid to ask for help. I'd wish you could just tell me what's wrong so I can treat it properly, but I'd understand if its something you need to keep between you and a professional."

She moved a hand to her heart, "-I _want _to help you, but you'd have to let me in. If your doctor or whatever can't help, and if what I did today worked at all... please let me know. And the same goes for Cissnei and the rest-" She smiled at him, "My abilities aren't exclusive to AVALANCHE. You guys should have watched me long enough to know that I believe kindness isn't restrictive. Its something that should be extended to _everyone_, no matter who they work for. If I can help, I _will _do so."

Aerith looked over her shoulder at Cloud and Cait Sith with gentle fondness, and then genially back at Cid and Shera; her new friends. She returned her attention back to the man in front of her and smirked, "...But you already knew that, didn't you? You believe it too. After all, you deemed it _Fair _to save us; whether or not we were your targets or your enemies. Shera was right in saying that you didn't have to go the extra mile-" She leaned in conspiratorially, her voice the lowest yet, "-But you did anyway. 'Sides, leaving Cloud in the dust would just _go against your nature _now, wouldn't it?"

Glaive's gaze had totally wiped itself clean of whatever he'd been feeling before; the expression not unlike a white-board getting sponged of every single mark or message. His eyes stayed very much inter-locked with her own; his previous, distant demeanor no where to be seen.

Aerith smiled at that, knowing that the message has indeed been received. She kept this same grin plastered to her face as she said, "I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who believes compassion should be shared. But, if it happens again... Don't be afraid to ask me for help. I _promise _to do whatever I can. Okay?"

Hoping that this was enough, she then carefully wiggled her way back to the seat; wondering if Zack would get the hint to come talk to her. Nonetheless, when she got back to the cock-pit, she put Cait on her lap with a sigh and stroked him in silence. Once she was sure Cait wasn't paying attention though, she subtly passed Cloud her brightest smile to betray some semblance of her success- even if it wasn't the kind he was looking for.

Cloud in the meantime folded his arms and jerked his head at her, but his expression remained carefully aloof. He probably suspected that Glaive hadn't been very forth-coming; but at least he didn't say anything about it.

"Not much further now!" Cid yelled over the wind, showing them his every tooth in a confident grin. "Land's just ahead!"

Aerith slouched into the seat and closed her eyes; but could still feel the mako-charged pair belonging to the supposed Turk lingering over her own countenance- Not that she minded, of course. If anything, it securely comforted her- and even brought Aerith's amiable gaze back onto the man in question. She looked up at him again; smiling her most secretive of smiles and carefully bringing a finger to her lips like she was quietly shushing a child. She winked for good measure; making sure the gesture was meant surely for he.

Glaive rested an arm on a propped up knee, his eyes narrowed but no longer suspicious. Aerith couldn't quite describe the welling of emotion building within them; but she could only assume its a mixture of uncertainty and worry. She hoped she was wrong though.

Not long after that, the _Tiny Bronco _hit the sand bar with a noticeable bump; the group having finally hit shallow waters. The waves encouraged the vehicle to glide to the shore in gentle, rolling laps; the motions so lazy that it made Aerith feel somewhat sleepy. When Cid turned off the engine and motioned for everyone to get off, Aerith almost wished she could've stayed on just a little longer just to doze.

Cid in the meantime ordered the other two men to help him get the plane on the land so he could check the chassis. Glaive and Cloud jointly hopped off and helped the elder man pull it all the way ashore; and then they let the pilot inspect the damage in begrudged silence. Shera even joined him and walked all around the plane in general; watching where the sea-water sluiced out so to make plans to seal the holes.

"Gonna need my repair-shit back at Rocket Town," Cid grumbled. "-If I'm gonna turn this thing into a kinda semi-decent sea-glider, we're gonna hafta spend some time fixing this thing in earnest." He turned back towards Rocket Town's general direction, gnawed at the end of his cigarette, and then he just shouted out of the blue, "_Fucking Minerva's flaming cunt! _How're are we gonna do that without getting shot at? Now I said we don't need to be going back so soon but- I can't do much without the right equipment!"

Cloud held up his PHS, "Want me to try to call the others and tell 'em to bring your stuff along? Or is something you need to do in person?"

Cid scratched at his head once, folded his arms, and then started rapid-fire tapping his feet. "I think-" he grunted, measuring the vehicle before him. "I need to get the stuff in person so I know what we'll need the most or what we're gonna need in the future. I know I got my emergency gear here, but its not gonna help me weld and bend the legs straight again- or to help me stick a rudder on the tail so we change direction a little better."

Cloud opened his mouth to say something else, but Cait Sith timidly waddled up to Cid and tapped his glove-tips together in a show of apprehensive nuance. His ears flattened part-way; as if half expecting the pilot to start yelling his head off again. "If I can offer a suggestion..." he began. "My mog can get what you need and bring it here. If you tell me what I should tell it, you'll have your things in just a jiff!"

Cid spat in a Barret-like manner, "Now how the bloody Hell do I know you'd be able to know which is _what_? Its bad enough you nearly broke my baby!"

Cloud face-palmed and grunted in aggravation, "Cait's a machine. He'll know what to get if you just tell him. Besides, he can tap into the... the-" He looked over his shoulder at Glaive, who complacently eyed the group of them. Cloud worked his jaw, blinked, and then checked himself. "-Just... take my word for it. Cait's moogle and our remaining friends can help get your things here while eluding Shinra forces well enough. They're gonna be on their way anyways."

Aerith tilted her head, "Did you talk to them at all?"

Cloud nodded, "Yeah, but the wind took most of what I was sayin'. But I was gonna call 'em back and tell them about the new guy." He jerked his thumb at Cid, and then folded his arms, "Might as well see what kinda trouble they got into."

Glaive blinked lazily, and then seemed to yawn behind his mask (if his watery eyes and long sigh was anything to go by). He meandered away from them, whipping out his cell phone and checking the new notifications flashing into view. Deciding that he didn't need to be near them anymore, he just walked until he was sure to have some ample distance from Cloud's enhanced hearing range- likely to call Cissnei and let her know what happened.

Aerith however, just wasn't going to let him walk off _that _easily. Not after all this time.

_Cissnei could wait a few more minutes._

Realizing that she needed an apt reason to go after him, she hopped to the plane and clambered messily into the primary cock-pit; finding her prize beneath the seat. Once she drew out the surprisingly heavy weapons, she slipped somewhat gracelessly back to the sand and raced off after him like a child waking up on Christmas morning. She tossed the cat, pilot, and merc a glance over her shoulder before arresting her determined gaze back onto the lone Glaive; slinking off after him through the beach vegetation. She wadded through Coastal bushes and blooming sand wort; carefully treading past rolling clumps of verbena, beach bur, and the occasional salt-brush.

Upon emerging through a particularly dense clump of reddened stalks, the 'Turk' shot the girl a challenging glance over his shoulder; as if mentally willing her to stay put. However, as any person who knew Aerith would know, she was just going to do the opposite. Aerith merely smirked, and then matched his pace as he crept inland further and further still. Glaive huffed tiredly as the oppressive heat embraced him, but at least the sound seemed normal now.

_He's better, and he has more energy, _she quickly noted, hugging the twin blades to her breast. _I guess I did well enough for the time-being._

"Hold it!"

Both abruptly froze in place; with Aerith glimpsing Cloud as he hurried towards them. Cid was looking after him as if Cloud had just ditched him in the midst of their conversation; but he seemed to blow it off easily enough and turned back towards Shera and Cait Sith.

As it was, Cloud coldly regarded the taller man; and then shot Aerith another chastising stare. He folded his arms next, his tone clipped, "Aerith, _seriously_. I thought you were done talking to him? I don't wanna be your baby-sitter or anything, but you know how I feel about this- let alone everyone else."

Glaive passed him an impassive once-over, his brow raised. Aerith's hands however would've flown behind her back, had they not been occupied. The flower peddler however smiled reassuringly at him, humming all the while, "I was only trying to give him back his toys. That's all!"

"Uh-huh," he skeptically reciprocated, drumming his finger-tips on his bicep.

Aerith pursed her lower lip and pouted. "And besides," she truthfully offered. "-Its not like I could've properly talked to him when we were at sea in a plane so small... and with Cait listening in. You know?"

Cloud's next snort more or less resembled the contemptuous whuff of a dog that just scented the most profoundly fetid pile of shit ever. He shot Glaive another glare and thinned his lips, carefully measuring him in reserved silence. Aforementioned Turk merely stared back, just as seemingly unimpressed.

Cloud blinked once, and then, "You know what? I think _**I **_wanna spare him some questions this time."

Aerith's expression suddenly lost its blithe cheer, her face suddenly blanching a few more colorless shades. She almost dropped the supposed Turk's weapons in reaction.

The smaller man kept his arms crossed, his rigid gaze stiff but wary- not at all betraying the same challenging glint as earlier. He turned to Aerith and huffed, "You don't need to look so damn spooked. I'm not gonna fight 'em or anything... So long as he doesn't give me the incentive."

Aerith decided on putting the over-sized daggers down and snapped her hands onto her hips, her expression suddenly firmer. "Well, you two are not going to fight, _period_. Not as long as I'm here." She shot both men a challenging look of her own, and then huffed at Cloud, "And I'd appreciate it if you tried to exercise some more patience with Glaive here-"

"Garm."

Aerith and Cloud shot matched looks of confusion at the Turk associate, a little taken aback by the sudden interruption. However, the taller man only looked on with reserved stoicism; snappily stuffing his phone away and dropping his fists to his sides. He turned and faced Cloud full-on, his chest out.

"...Its Garm," he repeated, his tone somewhat lowered; unfeeling but mellow.

Cloud blinked at him, and then shrugged off his surprise. He reclaimed his cool air and said, "Alright then, _Garm_. I don't suppose you feel like indulging a few questions?"

The other folded his arms too; his posture matching Cloud's almost _precisely_. "What makes you think I'd oblige?" he calmly reciprocated; his tone carrying only the smallest hints of his inner confidence- something that somewhat took Aerith by surprise. "-You and I both know I could easily walk away right now and you wouldn't be physically capable of stopping me," he gesticulated to Aerith as if to remind him of her presence; and then he dismissively waved it all off in general. His materia even flashed once in his arm fleetingly; further accentuating the gap between them.

_A bluff though. he still doesn't have the strength to go toe-to-toe with Cloud as he is, _she figured.

Cloud scoffed at him, having likely sensed the obscured message hidden within the words. He bobbed his bare shoulders and jerked his head, "Yeah, well, you could do that... But its not like you're gonna be able to dodge us forever." He jerked his head at Aerith himself, his lips curling at the corners. "You should already know by now that its pointless to keep this charade of yours. We already guessed you're not a real Turk- either that or you're just a particularly careless breed."

"Cloud!" Aerith sharply shot at him.

He tossed the Cetra a slightly softer glance, "Look Aerith. Its not like we can beat around the bush here. We could try dicking around with useless word-play all day, but it'll only waste what little time we have. Yunno what I mean?" His icy stare shot back to Garm, "-Sides, I'd think we all can agree that the quicker we can get this out, the better."

Just before the flower girl could say anything else in edgewise, Garm then queried quite levelly, "What makes you so sure that I'm not a Turk at all? I could be in training and it wouldn't make a lick of difference of what you are to me; and the vice versa."

The words were meant to push him away, but Cloud only took a step closer instead; his frigid stare dropping a couple more degrees. "-Cuz a _real _Turk; not a budding wannabe who passes himself off as one, really doesn't care for the collateral they cause. He does his job, _no matter what_." His teeth bared into something like a cruel grin, his eyes a swirling tempest that died just as quickly as it appeared. "Now, I won't claim to know what your orders are... cuz all you did so far is confuse everybody here with your weird shit. But, say your orders are to somehow magically _protect us _instead of the opposite, then I guess you did your mission right."

He raised a pointer finger, and then cut into Garm with another adamantine stare. "-However, you Turks got priorities that supersede all other matters- Like in the case of Palmer: I'd think a real Turk whose actually serious about furthering the company's goals- by helping keeping its _brass _preferably alive- would matter FAR more than any one life of a certified Shinra-hating asshole like me."

He passed the presumed associate a dismissive hand and jerked a chin at him, "However, you choosing me over Palmer's seems quite counter-productive. You coulda even froze me in mid-swing just so his guards can take me out- and yet you didn't." He bobbed his shoulders at him. "And then there's the matter of you taking my blood back at Runen: leading me to believe that you ass-hats would much rather keep _**me **_alive over your own bosses."

His arms crossed again here, his neon-tinted orbs a luminous flash that briefly bested the over-head afternoon sun. "So what gives?" he acidly prodded. "What kinda angle is your boss playin' at? I know Tseng isn't somebody whose known for breaking his Turk mold just on a whim. Somehow, he seems to find it worth your while for you guys to keep me alive, despite the shit he's pulled back in Midgar-" He leaned in, teeth bared for the briefest of instances, "-Like say, what he did to Aerith, or to _Sector Seven _for that matter. Funnily enough, he found that condemning an entire plate of some fifty-thousand people to death was a feasible way forward... but he's choosing now to spare only one person- **M_e_**\- Of _**ALL **_people?"

That's when he spat at Garm's boots, his expression completely shadowed with promised hostility. "Which is completely, fucking, bloody, bull-wyerd _SHIT_," He snarled. "And while Aerith here can be a forgiving person... Tseng's done enough to the majority of us that I simply cannot ignore.. or put behind me." His arms snapped to his sides, fists clenched, shoulders braced. "-_Not after all the emotional crap he put __**Tifa **__and the rest through_," he grounded out through his teeth; stopping just a breath from the taller and usually more imposing other.

At this point, Garm's vague traces of collected composure had once again melted away as he weighed the slightly shorter man in front of him; his eyes now completely circular globes glittering vividly within the shadows of his hood. He stared long and hard at the blond; unable to muster the will to drag himself away to gain any reprieve. Cloud only continued to linger intimidatingly close; his animistic and choleric flames a writhing Hell-born inferno surging within his mako-tinted gaze.

The two stood together; their chests almost touching as either looked on. Cloud's sweat-slicked torso betrayed every ounce of his tensed, bunching muscle; as if mentally readying himself to viciously lunge. All the while Garm rigidly stood, his marginally larger mass suddenly shrinking as he took that one fabled step away- the weight of denial tangibly chaining itself to his ankles and very nearly yanking him to the ground in shaken surprise. He shook his head, honest to God looking so apparently shocked by this portent than of any other queer event that had taken place today.

Aerith had forgotten that she had a voice; having looked on in the befuddling quietude as would a spectator to a fantastic drama. Her hands had long-since snapped to her mouth, warily looking between these two men; half-expecting one predator to savagely rip out the yielding throat of the other.

Cloud meanwhile eventually let his shoulders sink; his gaze a mirthless mask with no signs of withering away. Still, he absorbed the shock beheld within the opposing; wondering why in all the world Garm had looked so genuinely _shocked _about Tseng's role in the Sector Seven plate tragedy. That said, Cloud merely folded his arms and stepped away; his gaze retaining its acrimonious air.

"What?" he snapped. "...Don't tell me he didn't tell you _that_-? Its not like its some big secret between the whole lot of ya."

Aerith felt her eyes stayed locked upon Garm; truly finding his expression more and more perplexing as her blond bodyguard went on. _Did he... did Tseng not tell him of his direct involvement? _she wondered.

Cloud snorted again, "-Tseng was the one who helped see fit to that whole fucking incident. He may have been acting on the president's orders, but ya'd think any semi-sensible human man with half a conscience wouldn't just stand idly by and watch it happen- let alone carry out the order with a condescending **_smirk_**." His tone lessened in its visceral intensity; although the sound was still just as barbed as ever. "I know the Turks are Shinra's most loyal dogs; and they've been proven to do _anything _for their cut of the beef."

Garm's eyes narrowed once, as if he had something to say in protest for that first second. However, the will to say anything to this truth suddenly deserted him; leaving his head to slump all the way to his chest. His reclusive behavior in the wake of this bombshell was not wholly unexpected, but it was strangely muted.

Cloud blinked at him, trying his best to make heads or tails of it, "-So... ya'd think Tseng's ordering you to watch over us couldn't be anything but a self-serving motive for no good reason- not to mention how little sense is in it. I thought he trusted all his guys with his unsavory shit?"

Aerith took a faint step towards the man, but still Garm hadn't moved beyond the initial drop of his respirator's chambers hitting his collar-bone. His head hung so heavily; a weight he could no longer support.

Cloud's posturing lessened the more he watched him; suddenly finding Garm's dispirited aura suddenly palpable himself. He lowered his arms and carefully eyed the larger man; growing steadily more confused by the doleful appearance of him. Whatever other words he may have had gnawing at the back of his throat fizzled away; Cloud working his jaw like he was chewing on some of his words but just couldn't quite get them out.

A whole minute passed; maybe two. Garm didn't move in all that time; but he did eventually budge when he resignedly shut his eyes and _heaved_. The act was a greater, more surmountable weight than any other thing he's done; despite his natural breathing difficulties. He finally focused on Cloud again, his gaze a brittle blankness like cracked glass shards that had fogged over.

"...While I understand that you find Tseng's motivations rather perplexing... that doesn't mean its okay for you to ask me what my orders are. You know we don't just dole out information simply because you asked," he went on to say as if to check that he was still on the same plane as the blond. His eyes flashed, his words and tone jointly steeled.

Cloud scoffed, his eyes sharpening but not quite the fierceness it was earlier. "Like I said; its not like I'm gonna letcha keep on runnin' after the stunt you pulled today," he reciprocated; his tone unmistakably carrying every ounce of his unspoken threat.

Aerith was just about to speak up again in Garm's defense here, but then she heard a hearty "Hah!" escape the taller man; prompting her to lock eyes upon him. She saw something akin to humor glinting within his red-flecked gaze, the man even throwing back his head like he found something profoundly hilarious about Cloud's answer.

In fact, Cloud himself seemed a little taken off-guard by this, but he merely inclined his head and shifted his weight to one leg; his expression lightening marginally. Aerith couldn't tell what was happening here, but something had shifted between them that would only serve to confuse her for the rest of her days. She flashed uncertain glances between them both; watching Cloud's gaze in particular lift incrementally more and more each second.

Just as quickly as it happened though, the fleetingly lighter air was gone; leaving Garm to shut his eyes and sigh. He lifted a slow and heavy hand just to rest it upon his unseen temple. "Fucking Hell," he muttered; his tone rougher. Coarser. "This is just not anybody's day now, is it? Oh well."

Aerith and Cloud said nothing to this, watching as the Turk associate weighed the aforementioned queries in reserved and sullen silence. He folded his arms and shook his head at something that seemed to weigh heavily upon his mind, but then he brushed it off with a snappy "Fuck it" comment and a dismissive flick of the wrist.

"Okay, look," he began, holding both hands in mock surrender before dropping them. His tone retained its somewhat deeper inflection; Aerith presuming he's using it just for Cloud's benefit and not so much for herself- seeing as she knew who he was and Cloud had yet to suspect him. "...I'm just following orders here. If you wanna know why Tseng's so interested in you, even _I _don't know. I _thought _I knew, but... I guess I really don't."

He shrugged helplessly, his answer having sounded so conceivably sincere that even Aerith couldn't help wondering if Zack's original intention to save Cloud was for another reason beyond the obvious.

"You see, Tseng keeps secrets from his own men too," He started. "He only told me this much: that you're someone who _needed _to be watched almost as much as Aerith- maybe even more so. And in the case of a breach in information, I should willingly divulge a little bit of this information to you." He folded his arms, "Which hadn't been my intention to do today, but what can you do?"

Aerith flapped her lips at this, and then passed her male compatriot a dubious stare.

"Eh- Wha- _Why_?" Cloud tartly pressed, having likely been thrown off balance by this development. "The fuck are you goin' on about?"

Garm gave Cloud another once-over; except this time, he made a great show of it and waved at the smaller man like he was gesticulating to ALL of him. "Tell me somethin'," he began. "What do you know of your link to Hojo? And what do you know of your sickness?"

Cloud fluttered his lids in reply, and then he took an involuntary step back. He shook his head again; his expression all the response Garm needed.

At this, so said he, "-Figured as much. Of course you don't remember." His hooded head dipped lower, "Alright then. I guess its my turn to drop some truth bombs here. Let's start by saying that this is one of those symptoms-"

"-Of what?" Cloud curtly spat.

"J-Cell Toxicosis," Garm stated with no ceremony whatsoever. "Its actually a fairly common sickness that occurs in most SOLDIER members- or in Hojo's test subjects in general." He cocked his head a bit to the side and then shifted his weight to one leg, "Might as well tell you that now just in case you didn't know what you're dealing with here. I'm sure your friends have all probably noticed it too, by now. Whenever you're feeling under the weather, I mean."

"And how the Hell would _you _know about it?" Cloud bit.

Garm shrugged carelessly here, "Eh, hello- _Administrative Department of RESEARCH_ here. I'd think that would be pretty obvious within itself; especially since we're charged with watching Aerith and evaluating her safety twenty-four/seven." He huffed, "Anyways, Cellular Degradation isn't the only thing that this sickness is capable of. It has a whole other slew of nasty side effects to it that I can't quite name off of the top of my head. However, we can safely say headaches, migraines, shaking or loss of control over your limbs, hallucinations, among some other pretty hideous stuff is in the list. Mind you, not every person who comes down with it gets EVERY symptom. The cases are slightly varied from person to person."

He leaned towards Cloud, his eyes crinkling at the corners as a frown crossed his face. "Although," he murmured. "The memory loss isn't really a symptom of the J-Cell sickness so much as the mako poisoning. Mako energy is usually what's used to treat it though- Which is why you have it in the first place. You've been exposed to so _much_ mako energy in an effort to fight the effects the J-Cells have that its started messing with your head. But you probably don't even remember _that _either, do you?"

Aerith passed Cloud another hard stare, and then she focused upon the man before her. She clasped her hands at her front, once again reminded of Tifa's words. _Tifa says Tseng proclaimed Cloud was connected to Hojo... so that means... he's the LATTER, right? An experiment? That he never was SOLDIER? _

She couldn't help wondering about what Cloud told her just last night; the picture suddenly just a little clearer the more she considered it. As for Cloud, he flapped his mouth soundlessly like a beached fish; and then he tried to reclaim his calm as he shuffled uncomfortably from one leg to another. At the sight of his inner distress, Aerith couldn't help wondering if bits and pieces of the truth was snapping neatly but violently together for him as well.

_So that's why, _she thought. _Tseng wanted Cloud's blood; to test how much of these cells are in his body._

Garm noticed the blond's expression though, and then lessened his frown and dropped his arms back to his sides. "Look... If you're going to freak out about it, then I won't say more-" he trailed off.

"No!" Cloud darted forward, suddenly forgetting the term 'personal space' as he stepped within a meter of the Turk associate. "I- I _need_ to know."

A beleaguered sigh escaped the other man, "-I know you wanna know, but I'm not exactly allowed to say so much at _once_. I may have been given some free reign to oblige some of your questions, but I can't exactly answer all of them- not until I know for sure you can absorb some of it." His eyes betrayed his reluctance in saying that much, "-As it is, the entire truth isn't something I can willingly divulge without understanding what your reaction will be. The Mako poisoning within itself has done enough to you as it is."

"If I may," Aerith interjected, holding up a hand like a student waiting to get called upon in class. "It still doesn't answer why Tseng would want Cloud _alive_. If anything, wouldn't these potential dangers to his health merely not matter in the grand scheme of things? Like, didn't Tseng and the rest of the Turks only want Cloud dead, not that long ago? I thought his health wouldn't matter that much to them, personally..."

"As I said," Garm went on, although his gaze deliberately lingered on Aerith- perhaps pointedly, on purpose. "I can't specify why Tseng's so interested in Cloud all of a sudden- as I don't know myself. But what I _do _know is that Tseng and Cissnei deemed it okay for me to tell you this much: You lot shouldn't have to worry about the Turks being your enemy _all _the time- but you shouldn't relax yourselves around us. While we're not friends, we have mutual goals in mind- which was why Tseng said it was okay for me to help you when its deemed absolutely necessary."

Cloud's fingers on his arms tightened, "You Turk assholes are still interested in helping yourselves. You'd only want me around to help you achieve your own ends, right?"

"Right on the head," Garm confirmed.

Cloud harrumphed at him there, "So then... you guys _are _interested in my well-being?"

"That's right," he returned.

Cloud and Aerith shot each other looks, the man this time leveling her with his next query. "Aerith, you know Tseng better than most. What do you think this is for?"

The girl tightened her vice; her intertwining hands a wound-up mass of whitened knuckles as she fidgeted with the front of her dress. Her eyes darted to the ground, her head reeling.

_To help Zack_, said one side. _And to help himself, _whispered another.

"I... I don't really know," she admitted. "But... If I had to guess, I'd think Tseng doesn't have the apt man-power to do whatever he wants to do. So, he's probably just using AVALANCHE- or namely you-" she inclined her head at Cloud. "-To help him target his own enemies and to take them out for him. Or to do something else we just can't see- not that I can guess what _that _is."

Cloud turned to Garm, "Does that sound right to you? Or are you just gonna dodge that too?"

Garm heaved another breath for the millionth time today, this time turning away to meander in place. He paced around and shook his head, folding his arms across his riveted black coat. "I can't answer that," he replied in a lowered, more urgently hushed tone. "-Because even I don't even know what he wants half the time. I can't wrap my head around how he thinks."

"To be fair," Aerith imputed, mostly to Cloud as she watched his expression slide back to aggravated. "Tseng has always confused even senior members like _Reno _with his methods. He's not an easy man to predict- and I wouldn't expect a _Turk recruit _to fully comprehend it neither."

Zack's eyes caught her own; this time more meaningfully. While Cloud had ducked his head and turned to ponder this quandary, Aerith braved the idea of meeting Zack's gaze straight-on. She slipped him another covert smile, wondering if the softening of the corners of his eyes meant to betray his thanks of she going along with his farce- or if she was merely imagining it.

As it were, Cloud threw back his head and huffed, and then he returned his attention to the presumed associate himself. "Okay. So, I'm guessing you're not going to oblige anymore of our questions now, are you?"

Garm raised a brow at him, and then jerked his head backwards, "I told you before. I can only say so much-"

"You really think I can't handle it?" Cloud tried, although his tone wasn't quite the hard, challenging one Aerith was familiar with. It contained just the slightest hesitation; something that wasn't that easily detectable unless you knew him well enough.

Still, Garm could only shrug at Cloud this time; his eyes hooded- perhaps he'd sensed the weakness within Cloud's tone himself; but it was hard to be sure. "Well, that's what we're studying you for, isn't it? Once we feel we have a proper feel for what we're dealing with here, I can only imagine I'll be given the permission to say more then. Just not right now," He went on with another roll of his shoulders. "If its any consolation, Tseng wants to treat your sickness. So maybe you'll see me again with a way to help you before too long."

This insight seemed to not only surprise the pair, but soften Cloud's hard edges. His eyes roved the larger individual, working his jaw and then looking away in a anxious huff. He blinked furiously, his mouth coming open once before clamping back shut.

After spending the better part of a minute absorbing this, he turned back to Garm; his tone stiff. "Just so we're clear, we're _still_ not friends," he hissed, jabbing a quick finger in his direction.

Garm dismissively held up both arms, not a saying a word to neither confirm nor deny the statement. "I wouldn't expect you to," he finally reciprocated. "It would be idiotic if we got your trust that easily."

"Oh, so its _trust _you want?" Cloud bristled.

Garm shook his head, "Not at all. Just your cooperation. Its a positive means to an end we both seem to agree on; whatever that may entail for Tseng."

"What about you then? What do you get outta dealing with us, despite your injuries?" Cloud pressed as his eyes darted a quick once-over his entire countenance.

"That's for me to know, and no one else to find out," he quickly asserted with a mild swipe of his hand. "I'm just Tseng's mouth-piece here."

Cloud finally lowered the accusative hand, and then turned to Aerith, "Right. So, seeing as I think this guy isn't gonna be more helpful, I'm ready to just be done with today. You?"

Aerith stretched out, glancing briefly up at the immense, open skies above to gauge the sun's position. "Yeah... Finding a good place to camp may be a good idea. I can imagine it'll take the others the whole rest of the day to finally catch up to us. They'll be tired by the time they get here."

"I'll go call them now," Cloud assured. "And then we can see what we can do next."

"Sounds like a plan!" she cheerfully agreed.

Cloud shot Garm another stare, but he seemed to finally believe that the man wouldn't dare try anything under-handed. He darted glances between he and Aerith; and then scoffed at him in earnest. "You better behave yourself," he told the taller man. And then he turned to Aerith again, "-And _you _don't need to be talking with him alone for very long. As far as I'm concerned, we're done here."

"I know," she conceded.

"Good. I'll gonna go talk to Cid about places we can stay at for the night. He knows this region better than we do," Cloud shrugged. "If you're going to insist on talking to this bozo, don't be long."

Garm huffed at him, but he knew there hadn't much bite to the blond's words. Aerith however merely smiled, her hands folding neatly in front of her. "I won't," she nodded.

Cloud passed Garm a fleeting stare; although the expression was more guarded than anything. He snorted again, turned to Aerith, and then departed through the brush; throwing them the occasional glimpse over his shoulder. He stopped by Cid and Cait Sith; thankfully just out of ear and eye-shot.

Aerith mentally thanked Cloud for giving her this last chance, but she also knew she had to make the most of it. She turned back to Garm and opened her mouth-

"Don't," he said, his voice no longer the deliberately deepened timbre its been this entire conversation. "I know you have some questions, but I don't have the time for it. Cissnei's gonna be here in a short while to pick me up and tear me a new breathing hole while she's at it," he added on, briefly holding up his phone to let her quickly see the text notifications on his screen. "So... How long have you known?" he bluntly asked, deciding to jump straight to the point.

Aerith's face loosened its blithe air; the woman suddenly sensing the faintest traces of fear edging his words. She blinked in surprise herself, unable to retain her previous expression. "Just... a couple days. Maybe a little more," she offered. "I really didn't know in earnest until I saw you back in Rocket Town, and what you did for Cloud..."

"I never mentioned my acquaintance with him," he told her, shaking his head.

"You didn't have to," she felt her own head slump. There was no warmth in his voice; no comfort nor happiness or welcome to be seen. She huffed, suddenly feeling at odds with him, "Tifa just kinda put the pieces together."

Zack blinked at her and freely cocked his head, although the gesture was quickly schooled and promptly erased. "...How?" he pressed, his tone strangely flat.

"She's... she's smarter than the Turks take her for," Aerith shrugged. "Not to mention the uh... well, let's just say it wasn't anything _you_ did, so much as what _Tseng _told me."

Zack took a cautious step towards her, his red-flecked sapphires betraying every ounce of his surprise possible. "That-" he rattled his head. "Why would he-?" He shook it again, seemingly disoriented with the portent. Rapidly, he spun on the ball of his heel and held up his phone; his grip on the device tightening. "What... what was he thinking-? What _else _did he tell you-?"

"...Not much, and not directly," she clarified. "He only left me a single message; telling me that he finally delivered all my letters to you. He never told me where you were, or what you're doing. He avoided all direct queries, and he said I'd be able to know- with a little thinking, of course."

"The Hell is that man thinking-?" she heard him mutter to himself. He then abruptly turned towards her next, "...Can I ask how _Tifa _got involved?"

Aerith felt her hands go behind her back, her fingers intertwining together. "It goes back to Tifa being smarter than what some people believe; and the fact that she was the first to start questioning why Cloud's behavior is what it is- like with Tseng having her deliver that message to me. It also started from me asking where Cloud got the sword, to what Tifa said she saw in Nibelheim-"

"She put the pieces together," he finished for her, his shoulders squared.

"Yeah. She did," Aerith nodded mechanically. Her voice fell lower as she went on, "I really didn't actually believe it at first, but when she first told me that you and Glaive were the same person... I honestly didn't think it was _true_. You know?"

The two awkwardly miled about for an absolutely stone-cold minute, completely at a loss for what to say. Aerith toed the ground in a Tifa-like way, her hands keeping their folded position in front of her. She looked up at him on occasion, hoping to find any more of that fleeting warmth Zack was usually known for. Any invitation to let her in.

_Anything._

Even now, he was keeping her at arm's length; and it couldn't have pained her more. She now knew who he was, and yet he was _still _trying to keep his back to her. His odd and reclusive behavior clashed violently with the loving hugger she knew he him to be; his goggled eyes the only part of him she could really see at all. On occasion, she looked up between he and the abandoned glaives beneath her; unable to find the words.

Eventually, she watched him crumble in on himself; slumping over like all the wind had been swept out of his sails. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he bemoaned.

"Huh?"

"You shouldn't know... you shouldn't-" he trailed off. "_Not so soon_... I didn't... I wanted to-"

Aerith lifted her head and leveled him a baffling expression, wondering what in the holy hell was he working himself up over. She took another tentative step towards him; testing to see if he'd turn and willingly shove her away. Either he didn't notice, or he just didn't care; because he just kept on mouthing undiscerned nothings to no one in particular as she loomed ever closer.

Zack kept his unsteady footing, but he didn't react to her at all. Aerith reached tentatively out; only just grazing his back with wandering finger-tips. The thick material that was his coat was absurdly thick; leading her to wonder if Zack was sweating his balls off in this thing. She flattened her hand against the slope of his shoulder blade; and then daintily crept closer to carefully tread the barrier between them. Inwardly, she couldn't marveling at the fact that she was even _touching _him after so long.

Zack had indeed noticed by now, but much to her gratification, he didn't try to pull away. He eventually quieted down, his rueful gaze lost as it swept the earth beneath him. Long and short of it, he simply wasn't that receptive to touch at this moment. Aerith carefully moved in front of him, facing him full-on while eyeing her distant comrades. She made sure Cloud and the others were too busy talking it out before trying anything else; her gaze rabbit-level wary and eyes studiously swift.

From what she could see past the Bleeding Coastal brush, Cloud was on his PHS; holding it up for Cid to blabber into while Cait Sith circled the plane with Shera. The latter made sure to note whatever cursory damage has been sustained while paying no never mind to the former. In fact, Cid even snagged the phone from Cloud in general and strung a song of sailor swears in a miraculous flurry; Aerith somewhat glad that she couldn't quite catch it.

Deeming this as feasible, she turned back to Zack and gently placed both hands alongside his cheeks; his respirator a tangible barrier between them. She forcibly arrested his attention on her. "Talk to me," she murmured just between them, her words a weary supplication; a prayer she hoped he would answer. "_Please_."

Zack's eyes stayed locked intimately within her own, the man not at all moving for some long seconds after hearing her beseeching words. And when he blinked, it was a deliberately drawn-out motion that swept across his rueful gaze like a vast wind clearing away the clouds after a turbulent hurricane. He lifted his gloved hands, the movement so gradual it looked like he was moving in slow-mo. The roughened material enveloped her palms, lingered, hesitated; as if in contemplation of whether or not to remove her again.

If he pushed her away now, Aerith would finally understand to take the hint to leave him be. However, she was pretty sure the act would finish destroying whatever lingering hopes she had of properly speaking with him. If he walled her off again, she would never again press for anymore information until he came to her _first_.

Not that it wouldn't hurt in the process- because really, it will only finish fueling the notion that he may truly not want anything to do with her anymore. Even if she had no basis in that assumption, she still couldn't help feeling like there really wasn't anything else that could be shared between them. After all, she had blocked him out of certain facets of her life as he did; having thought even for a single second that he could've potentially handed her in to Shinra in the past. She didn't know why she believed it then; especially after she'd clearly told Cloud how she felt towards Zack. She'd only ever said good things; even wholly _believed _them.

_So why didn't I trust him? _she couldn't help thinking. _Its not like he would've done it. I know that now-_

It suddenly hit her with the force of a sack of bricks; the brimming swell of desolation and grief that had haunted her for the better part of the last _five long years_. She'd sincerely thought she'd tamed these feelings down after sealing her final letter; her last farewell to all the good he's ever brought her. She truly thought she buried her feelings towards him; but after her experience in Gongaga, Tifa's hesitant words, and finally seeing him here after he's risked life and limb to save them, she knew now just how wrong she was.

What's more, he'd chosen to keep her safe over whatever the Turks could've asked; choosing to risk exposure to keep her safe from Shinra- no matter his current association. Choosing to let Cloud deal the blow he had for their well-being.

And how foolish was she, after having once believed she couldn't trust him?

The surge was powerful; it swept over she just as any vast tsunami over a town of frond shacks set on a sugary beach. The tears were _there_; blurring her image of his suddenly concerned eyes and blinding her to the world around her. She valiantly fought them; struggled to tame them; but still they came and went. They poured forth in a globular deluge that tore away her vision of him; her mind suddenly loosing all hold of her once steely focus. Aerith had tried to not come so violently undone; especially with Cloud not so far away from them- but all her efforts had frayed apart as would a delicate, hundred year-old piece of raggedy cloth in a child's careless hands.

Her strength gave in her legs, and then she was bumping his chest in delirious heartache that finished taking away all her sight. The scent of brine salt and the conjoined, sharp tang of mako-charged, male musk assaulted her nostrils; her smell and touch her only form of vision as of this moment.

Zack's hands removed themselves from her wrists and suddenly (frantically) entwined themselves around her whole upper body; his arms just large enough to completely encase her slight frame around her shoulders. The frenetic resonance of his maddening swift heart-beat reverberated through his coat and into her ear; a whispering pattering that promised his continued survival. She felt his chin (to the best of his ability) rest upon her crown; the raspy escape of his breath through his respirator mask betraying his tangible worry at seeing her like this.

She felt him move his head and his lift an arm; and then she caught the soft sigh of metal hitting the sand beneath her as his mask was unceremoniously abandoned. And then, she felt the warming pressure of his cheek smushing against her scalp; a diminutive, fluttering gasp suddenly squeaking its way through his unseen lips. His arms shuffled and tightened around her; an unbreakable cage she's willingly imprisoned herself within.

His weight came next; as if he too couldn't hold himself up. However, he resolutely remained steadfast upon his feet while viciously stifling his feeble huffs; his own lament bringing forth a rain that kissed her scalp in silent secrecy. Her hair fluffed and fluttered with his every exhalation; his surrounding grip as frighteningly vice-like and comforting as she remembered. His body flattened itself to her own; the girl blindly reciprocating with no more thought to it as she would take her next breath.

Something else loosened itself within her breast; but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. If anything, it gently released its hold as would a reluctant python finally letting its prey go. Her hiccuping gasps and tears lightened; and a serenity like sacral, holy water being splashed upon her whirled its way across her body. An intimate sweep of warmth bloomed across her abdomen and heart; a sheer-wind of ardor that more or less felt like being given a warm, fur-coat in the midst of snowy white-out. Her tears almost ceased over-all; the softest of smiles curling her lips.

And there they stood, relatively well-concealed within the coastal panic brush with verdant sand wort and dune-builder greenery surrounding them in sweeping halos. For that one moment, it felt like coming home; to the little garden within the church- To _their _secret garden, at that.

After what felt blissfully like an eternity but also belatedly felt like mere seconds, Zack was the first to speak up between them. "I always knew you looked good in pink," he murmured into her hair.

"Hm. Is that right?" she smirked; not bothering to draw herself away quite yet. When did her arms wind up around his waist anyway? Not that she cared.

There was no mistaking the smile gracing his lips; if his tone was anything to go by. "Yup. Nuthin' like it, actually," he casually added on. "You should wear it more."

"I wear it every day," she giggled, burying her face as much as she could into his chest.

He didn't comment on this; although Aerith did suddenly hear the catch of his breath trapping itself within him. The sound was initially worrying; but then his arms renewed their grip around her. His mild, gentle timbre gingerly swept through her ears; the sound so subtle she almost didn't quite catch it. "You... you wore it. For me?" he apprehensively inquired.

Aerith felt her smile fade somewhat as she caught the heavy sorrow interlacing his words. "Hm, yeah," she replied with a little hesitation. "Every day for the last... um, I think it was the last four and a half years?"

Her words seemed to have gut-punched him somehow; if the wind escaping him was anything to go by. In fact, his arms only continued to tighten; almost to the point where it _hurt_. Aerith squirmed some to quietly let him know, and he did somewhat relent his hold after-which. Still, Aerith had sensed the hug was over and was generally pulling herself away after that; although she didn't do so completely. In some way, some part of her sought a piece of him to hold onto; her hands firmly clasping the lapels lining the front of his coat.

She looked up at his face and noted that it was unobstructed in any way. For the very first time in five whole years, she was able to see his features almost in its _entirety_; the sight almost bringing forth the tears once again. If she could best describe the being before her, _changed _couldn't even begin to properly describe what she was seeing:

His goggles had been down moved to his neck; the man having kept his hood pulled over his head. As for his face, he had long-since lost any fat that could've been in his slightly warmed, reddened cheeks. It contained some sort of near gauntness that made him appear almost a stranger to her. His blue eyes were ringed with exhaustion, but still as vibrant as ever. In fact, there was no mistaking the improved and increased flow of mako energy swirling around his pupils in an untamed torrent. His stare seemed almost _too _bright beneath the shade of his hood; his gaze not at all containing the same natural cheer he always used to perpetually wear.

His hair was no longer combed back; the bangs a raven-plumed veil that framed his weary facade perfectly. He no longer had a criminally smooth jaw-line neither; as his chin seemed to be a touch more stark with shadow than originally perceived. He's definitely shaved that same morning; that much was perceivable to her. His lips had no color to them either; perhaps an side-effect of his unknown condition.

At her scrutiny, Zack seemed to remember himself and suddenly looked away out of reflex; the air around him shifting somewhat. "What? Ya missed seeing my sexy smolder _THAT _much?" he tried to jest.

_Using humor to deflect how tense he feels. Like usual, _she thought.

Aerith however decided to go along with it, even giggling half-heartedly and tilting her head in flirty nuance. She hummed, "Well... so maybe I did?"

He jerked back, "Wha- really? You serious?"

At this, her next chuckle came more naturally to her. She poked the man right in the center of his forehead, her voice slipping into softer tones. "Of course. More than you'll ever know," she readily admitted; somehow finding her response genuine.

Zack blinked at her in stupefied awe, and then he grabbed her out-stretched hand and lowered it. He held it between them, his gaze that same mild gentleness she fondly remembered; despite all his physical changes. Sure, he may still look and feel a stranger in some ways, but Aerith couldn't help being inwardly glad to see some facets of his personality hadn't faltered at all.

He opened his mouth to likely say something flirty or endearing; not that Aerith would know. It was in that same minute his cell-phone rang in his pocket; even though the sound had been dialed down to its last bars. Zack blinked like he'd been jarred from a fantastic dream and pursed his lips; his jaw clenching in a familiar way. He reluctantly took it out and unlocked it, and then steadily rested his eyes back on Aerith in a way to tell her to be silent.

"Garm speaking," he said.

Aerith could just barely hear it, but she managed to catch Cissnei's level-headed mezzo-soprano from the speaker. _"Oh my freaking god. FINALLY," _she sighed exasperatedly. _"I finally got through."_

"Wha- Sis? Holy shit," Zack almost fumbled his phone and folded one arm against his chest, tucking a hand into his pit and turning away. "I'm sorry. What happened? You okay?"

_"I should be asking YOU that!" _she almost shouted; much to both Zack and Aerith's surprise. _"I've been texting you for the past half-an-hour or so and you STILL didn't respond. I've tried hailing you from the transmitter, but it seems like nothing was getting through. Is it broken or something?"_

"Naw. I just turned it off and stowed it away," he admitted with a wince. "I wasn't in any position to speak around the-" he tossed Aerith a glance, his gaze briefly unreadable. "-The uh, _targets_."

_"Okay, but how come you didn't just message me back? Was something wrong?"_

"No no. I just dozed off a bit," Zack said. "I was just tired is all. Sorry about that."

_"And the targets?"_

"They're both okay," Zack confirmed. "Cloud's just been pissy about getting his ass saved though. I'll hafta tell ya later."

_"Oh yeah. You will most CERTAINLY explain why you thought it was a good idea for you to take off as you did," _Cissnei said almost pleasantly; although her tone was much more insidious. Zack's already uneven complexion did marginally blanch at some places there. _"Its bad enough Vincent had to go back over what happened," _she added on. _"He had his hands quite full with the mess you made."_

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Zack immediately replied. "Its not like it was _MY _idea for Cloud to just up and-"

_"Garm, listen. I'm not mad at you for what AVALANCHE decided to do. I'm just worried that you over-exerted yourself." _There was a beat here. _"-Huh. That's funny. You don't sound like your breathing is too bad..."_

"I-" he hesitated and passed Aerith another glance. "I... I feel fine. Told ya the meds are helping."

_"Hm. I suppose. Hendel did give you more, didn't he?"_

Aerith passed the suddenly shifty Zack a somewhat worried stare, mouthing the words 'Hendel' and 'meds' clearly enough for him to catch them. Zack made a face at her like he just smelled something rank; and then sheepishly turned away.

"Like I said," he told her. "They're helping. I just wanna be done with today and get some damn food and into a bed ASAP. Yunno?"

_"Luckily for you, I'm already on my way. I had to wait on Vincent to finish clean up," _she elaborated. _"We'll be there in ten. Sit tight and don't do anything else reckless."_

"Read ya loud and clear," he nodded.

_"Alright. See you then."_

Once she hung up, Zack snappily put away his phone and tossed Aerith another apologetic glance. He shrugged at her, "So uh... you caught all that?"

Aerith folded her arms, her expression contrite. "Are you sure you can't just tell me what's wrong?" she merely inquired.

Zack huffed and bowed his head, decidedly going to pick up his respirator and dusting the grains of sand out of the mask. "I don't want too," he admitted. "But now that you know who I am, I guess I really can't keep it from you, huh?"

The flower girl said nothing to this, merely giving Zack another pronounced once-over that betrayed her creeping anxiety.

The man huffed, his next expression making him appear much older than his years, "The thing is... Maybe I'll tell ya later. Whenever it seems possible. As you heard- Sis is gonna come get me and notice I'm better than okay. I dunno what I'll tell her, but I don't want her knowing what we know. Yunno?" He shook his head. "Its bad enough you and freaking Tifa know about me..."

"Why the secrecy though? I don't understand," she pressed.

"That's something for another time," Zack lowly replied, his tone weary. "Its kinda a long story-"

"Then give me the short version!" Aerith suddenly blurted. "I need to at least know if you're still in any danger or-"

Zack suddenly latched onto her shoulders and leveled her his most sincere gaze, his oceanic cerulean eyes evenly meeting her beryl pair. "Look," he murmured just between them. "Its not _me _that's not in any real danger. Not technically. As you can probably guess, its _Cloud _I'm worried about."

His gaze shot briefly over his shoulder, the pair noticing that Cloud was busily trying to help Cid with some modest repairs on the plane's legs. Shera was gently instructing him as well, with Cait Sith occasionally handing over the proper repair tools from Cid's personal emergency duffel.

Zack turned back to Aerith, "The thing is, I don't have enough time to explain everything. Even the 'short' version of the story we'll have us sitting here for far longer than I'd like."

"So... could you at least tell me at some point?" Aerith almost begged; something she never really found herself doing.

Zack's grip on her shoulders became firmer, "I'll happily sit there and explain everything when the chance arises. But right now, I need to ask you a favor." His eyes became marginally harder; but contained just the faintest traces of his worry as well. "Please," he beseeched to her. "_Please_... Please don't tell anyone about me. I promise I'll explain... but, just not today. Okay?"

Aerith suddenly seized his wrists and extracted them, her gaze immediately militant. "You know very well how I am with secrets. I won't tell anyone. Although-" Her gaze abruptly dropped to the ground, "If I may... could I at least tell Tifa? She's the one who actually managed to figure this out. And frankly, I think telling her about you could help her deal with Cloud."

"Huh?" Zack tilted his head, blinking a couple times for good measure. "How so?"

"I.. I dunno," Aerith heaved with plainly evident resignation. "So far, she's been the only one that could really connect with him- besides me. Tifa's someone whose been trying to figure out why her childhood friend isn't all... there. You know? If I can just talk to her about the J-cell thing... and her hunch about you... it could help concrete some confidence back into her and give her a new direction to go towards. Maybe?"

Zack hummed at this, his expression split between dubious and certain simultaneously. He clenched his jaw and rolled it, and then, "...Okay. But _JUST _her, and no one else. Capiche?"

Aerith rattled her skull furiously in answer.

"Good. Now, its not like it can be helped anyways..." he bemoaned dramatically, throwing back his head and rolling it along his neck. "-Since she's the one who figured it out and all. But if you really think it'll help her deal with Cloud in a good way, that'll make _everyone's _lives much easier."

Aerith nodded again at this, "That's what I figure."

Zack blinked off his consternation and shrugged, and then he scooped up his forgotten glaives. "Alright then. I'm gonna dip. Cissnei's gonna give me a lecture I'll never forget as it is..." He sighed again, throwing the weapons back over his shoulder. "And maybe, I'll be able to play catch up with ya the next time we cross paths- It'll probably be a mission assigned by the doc for me to give Cloud something for his 'condition'."

"You have a doctor treating Cloud?" Aerith wondered aloud.

Zack bobbed his shoulders again, "Like I said, its all part of the story. And yes, just to answer your question."

"That's... that's actually kind of relieving to hear," she admitted, her hands intertwining at her front again. "I think me and Tifa will _both _certainly sleep easier tonight, upon hearing that."

Zack gave her a lop-sided grin, "Glad to know something good came outta today."

Aerith's following smile couldn't have been bigger; her gentle gaze as tender as she can possibly make it. "Me too," she echoed.

Zack went to scratch his head, but then realized his hood is still up and huffed. Instead, he slipped the goggles back up and wrapped the respirator's ties carefully behind his head in a motion forged from long practice. When he was through, he looked up and rasped, "Welp, make sure you and the others skedaddle. Knowing Shinra, they'll be on your asses like rot on a behemoth's breath if you don't. My recommendation is somewhere they wouldn't think to look."

Aerith bit her lip and looked away, "Yeah... you're probably right. Not that I know where that would be..."

Zack crossed the small gap between them and braced her shoulders again, "Go somewhere safe. I don't care if its Cosmo or Wutai or _some-fuck-where_, but you gotta do it. And don't worry-" Aerith could easily imagine the grin creasing his tired lips here, "Me, Sis, and Vince we'll be right behind ya, watching over you the whole time. Okay? Who knows- maybe I'll introduce you to Vince. Minerva knows he needs a social life, and a friend besides me and Cissnei."

Aerith happily nodded, and then she reached forth and pulled his mask back down. It was a sudden, smooth motion that stilled Zack; one that easily took him off his guard. And if that wasn't enough, Aerith herself tilted forward and touched her cheek with his warmer one; her breath ghosting over his ear as she said, "I meant what I said back on that plane. Don't ever forget to let me help you when you need it. I promised you, didn't I?"

She hesitated, and then she pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth in familiar welcome, and then she steadily drew away. She felt that anything more would be too much too fast after all this time.

"-And whatever you do," she eventually added on upon taking in the wistful surprise on his face. "-Please don't shut me out anymore. You know my doors have always been open to you- as they'll always be. Alright?"

It took him a hot minute to wake up; but when he did, he spared her this endearing, compassionate smile that's not quite a grin but something almost as vibrant. In liquid reflex, he was suddenly within her personal space again and pressing his lips to her forehead; the contact lingering. And even long after he drew away, still the burn of his affectionate brand seared its way into her epidermis in enduring reminiscence. The man even swept a hand behind her head and slowly trailed it down her braid; lightly pulling it over her shoulder as he withdrew.

He put his mask back, and then turned towards the land the stretched out behind her. In the distance, you could make out the whirling wash of rotor blades splitting the sea-breeze. He walked towards it, but not without passing her one last glance over his shoulder.

"I'll see you soon, Aerith. And _this _time, I promise it'll be a helluva lot sooner," was his whispered assurance.

Aerith contently nodded, keeping her hands folded into each other as she watched her boyfriend turn to leave. And as she did, this time she was happy to notice no lingering dread shadowing his every step; no damning herald that would take him out of her life forever. Here, she just sat and smiled and waited, feeling cautiously optimistic that'll she'll certainly see him again soon.

And it couldn't be soon enough.


	17. The Burden of Trust

~777~

Tifa couldn't help her feelings of inadequacy as of late- And just as she thought she was finally gaining back some of that confident momentum too.

For the last week ever since their departure from Nibelheim, it seemed nothing she said could get through to Cloud. The most she got out of him was nods of acknowledgement and his usual attentiveness whenever Tifa had the nerve to speak aloud her rarely heard thoughts. Those moments in particular, he was his most observant- and while endearing, something about the masked quality of his expressions was just _off-putting_. He encouraged her more out-going behavior, and enforced his support in small ways and little gestures.

But whenever he seemed to be in need of some kind of help himself, Tifa could only feel like she can give so much before its considered simply not enough. Its like he shuts himself down before she could find the words; effectively ending it before it starts. Cloud doesn't accept help; he only gives it- and its a trait he's carried with him for so long now. Its something Tifa admittedly wanted to bull-doze right through; once she had the proper know-how.

After their rendezvous with Cloud, Cait Sith and Aerith, the group realized they had become nine strong (if you include Shera). And although the latter woman isn't going to be an active part of their entourage per se, she definitely concreted that she'll support AVALANCHE in whatever way she could- from her new home in Cosmo Canyon. And while Tifa was a little apprehensive of the idea of involving anyone else in their ever increasingly violent battles with Shinra, she couldn't help feeling a bit cheered that they've garnered some more support.

From where they'd go from here, that was another story _entirely_: Because of what happened to Palmer, Cloud proposed they go somewhere where Shinra wouldn't feel inclined to follow; a place they're not known to bother. At first, the initial recommendation was to briefly revisit Cosmo Canyon; as Shera had to go there anyways. Another idea was to head straight North to the Bone village- but Yuffie pressed super hard for them to head to _Wutai _instead.

This didn't seem a very feasible idea to pretty much ninety-five percent of the group though. Shinra and Wutai had bad blood between them- that much pretty much everybody and their mom knew. Shinra had no qualms about invading their territory for whatever reason they felt was worth indulging- and _especially _as of recently. If Shinra ever caught word that AVALANCHE headed there to hide out, they'd likely start to believe that their lies may have some true merit to it after all- not to mention unnecessarily draw attention to the already devastated country.

So no, Wutai wasn't a much of an option; but it didn't stop Cloud and Yuffie from butting heads anyways. It was a yelling match that nearly made history at first, but it eventually _did_ when Barret decided to include his very loud and profound opinions. He and Cloud adamantly told Yuffie that heading there simply didn't fit the bill; and that heading to the vast wilderness up North would be more feasible. However, there was one reason in particular that the match didn't end right then.

"Wutai has TONS of wilderness we can hide in too! And guess what?" Yuffie waved one dramatic hand in front of her like she was gesticulating to the entire panorama around them. She then snapped both to her hips as she went on, "-It just so happens that I know it like the back of my hand! If we went to hide out North, we'd get lost within the day! But if we camp out in Wutai, at least we'd been navigating territory I _know_!" She jumped in place; her every gesture enthusiastic, and then jabbed a finger out to Cloud in particular, "Besides! Wutai's got jungles even the big-bad SOLDIER has gotten lost in! Surely you know about _that_?"

Cloud's lips thinned, his arms tightly folded across his chest. Tifa watched him clench and unclench his jaw for a seconds before he huffed in resignation.

"...Yeah, I heard the stories about SOLDIER disappearances in Wutai's forests," he said with a snort; bobbing his shoulders next. "-Hell, there was even a guy that went AWOL during the war who used the hundreds of miles of land as a cover... but that _still _doesn't mean we should book it there anyways. We don't need to be giving Shinra a valid reason to believe their own bull-shit story about AVALANCHE havin' connections with 'em. Aren't you worried about the implification of _that _at all?"

Yuffie pouted out her lip, but didn't deny it. She looked away and carefully considered his words; something she doesn't usually give much thought to. However, she still went on to say, "...Well, of _course _I'm worried about that! But let's be honest here- Shinra's gonna try to go to war with Wutai again anyways, regardless if its related to us or not." Her stare hardened, "-But its also why I wanna go anyways; cuz that's something _I _know, but not my family. Yunno?"

Cloud and Barret passed each other looks; with the latter going on to ask rather gruffly, "Wait, they don't know Shinra's planning on doin' that?"

"No... they don't," Yuffie confirmed grimly, losing all signs of her earlier cheer.

"What, you can't just call 'em or something?" Cloud queried.

"My dad's... pretty _**old **_fashioned," Yuffie heaved dramatically, her expression now irritated. "He doesn't have a phone. I could write him a letter, but we'd be there a heck of a lot quicker than any kind of post we coulda sent. I only learned about this myself when we first met-" She blew some of her hair out of her face, looking rather put-out. "-And even if I did send a letter _right _after we met, I don't think it woulda made it. You guys know how people feel about Wutai- _especially _since Shinra does its best to interfere with the mailing system. They woulda found the message and routed it out to my family."

Cait Sith sighed nearby, "Aye, that's true. Shinra's going to tap into any kind of postal service they can simply because if they see any kind of mention of Wutain name, they'll automatically think it suspicious. So a name like 'Kisaragi' on a piece of paper is sure to be scrutinized. And with your link to AVALANCHE now-" The feline hung his head, "Shinra's definitely going to try to look for anything relating to you in _any _system _anywhere_."

Cloud narrowed his eyes nonetheless, "Yunno, you coulda stood to mention that in the _first _place. We would've helped you get to Wutai a helluva lot _sooner _instead of meanderin' about the whole rest of the world on a Sephiroth-hunt that apparently didn't work out."

Yuffie actually blinked at him at this, if disbelievingly. She had her turn to narrow her eyes here, "You guys haven't even known me that long! Its not like I coulda asked a buncha complete strangers to help me get back to Wutai upon hearing this." She waved them all off, but her eyes were still on Cloud when she said, "How am I supposed to know you guys would want to help me with this anyways? _You _always acted like you don't generally care."

Cloud opened his mouth to immediately retort, but Tifa placed a hand on his shoulder before he could find the words. "I think what she means is, with almost all of us here having some sort of past link to Shinra, she wouldn't have felt inclined to have trusted us with something this important- especially since we really haven't known each other that long." She made a face as she reasoned, "And while AVALANCHE has always been anti-Shinra, not all of its factions are entirely trustworthy; and we're not known for recruiting many Wutain members."

She nodded, "Yeah! That's right!"

Cloud retained his acrimonious air, "-You still coulda left at any point to go tell your dad or whoever, instead of staying with us this whole time."

Yuffie's hands went back to her hips, "You guys were headed west anyways. And frankly, you have a _freaking spy machine right there_-" She pointed at Cait Sith. "-All of my most recent Intel woulda came from him. If he said that Shinra was mobilizing its forces at any moment, I woulda left anyways; with or without you guys!"

Cloud relented here, although his expression still contained some hint of his wariness and intermingling suspicion that Tifa herself didn't quite understand.

With that said, they decided they'll drop by Wutai after helping Shera to the Nibel borders. All the while they were cooking up dinner over their open fire that same night, Cloud and Barret discussed their swiftest route with Cid. Cait Sith made helpful inputs according to whatever new news he got on Shinra's movements and where they're heading.

It was at the same time that Aerith had offered to go on another walk with Tifa; seemingly out of nowhere. Her eyes were increasingly more livid with their natural emerald glow; fervent with a vivacious energy that leapt and surged with barely contained excitement. Eagerly, she grabbed Tifa's hand and whisked her towards the beach; not too far from where the _Tiny Bronco _was parked. Tifa couldn't help wondering where all his energy was coming from; especially since today had been more than just a _little _chaotic.

But boy oh boy, the things the other woman had to say...

"Tifa, you were absolutely _right_!" She jubilantly cheered as they meandered towards the waves; letting their bare feet sink into the sands and gently lapping waters. She whirled happily about on the tips of her toes with the grace of a professional ballet dancer; suddenly blurting with an excitement that's likely built throughout the day, "-That masked Turk really _IS _Zack!"

Tifa, while curious about how Cloud's team had managed to handle the whole Palmer thing (he hadn't had the time to explain it yet), she certainly hadn't expected _this _as an added bonus to their busy day: The former bar-tender physically stopped to fully absorb this fact; feeling very much like she just got thrown into a solid brick wall by a charging behemoth in the middle of its Must season.

"...No way," she mouthed disbelievingly, mouth flapping open. "You're _kidding _me-?"

"Freaking flaming hedgehog pies on a skewer Tifa, why would I joke about _this_? I am _sooo _not kidding-" Aerith pumped her arms and grinned as belatedly as she can possibly manage without actually splitting her face in two. She seized Tifa's hands and bounced in place, her jovial energy quite contagious. Tifa couldn't help smiling herself as Aerith said, "-That man really is _Zack _in a disguise! He really _is _alive! Oh great Minerva... I couldn't be any happier, or more relieved-"

Tifa cupped Aerith's suddenly jittery hands within her own, matching her joy with something similar. "I-" she trailed off, at first. "...I'm just really... wow. I can't actually _believe_ that..."

"Yeah, I _know_!" Aerith giddily reciprocated. "Isn't this great?"

Tifa's fragile elation fizzled abruptly away, feeling her initial shock wear off in favor of something akin to suspicious trepidation. "Well yeah, sure," she nodded, still being as genuine as she could with her muddled thoughts. "-But now I can't help wondering why Zack is even hanging around those guys- _especially _after the whole Sector Seven incident; or you getting abducted by them."

Aerith mellowed as well, pursing her lip somewhat. She gave a slight shake of the head, "...I don't think Zack even knew about the Turks' direct involvement with the plate fall. Cloud even threw it in his face and he acted like someone just told him his first-born child died or something. The look on his face was hard to ignore- well, from what I could see." Her brows knitted neatly at this, "Erm, more like his _eyes _gave it away; and he was silent for a real long time. I'm pretty sure Tseng didn't tell him this."

While Tifa found this information somewhat insightful as it was suspicious, she couldn't help asking instead, "Wha- _Cloud _saw him too-?"

Aerith did that little waving flick of her right wrist to help dismiss the previous query. "No no. Zack kept the mask on when Cloud was around. Its only until after he left us alone did he remove it." She tucked her hands into each other, her expression troubled. "While he couldn't explain anything to me, Zack said he needed to keep it on around Cloud. And seeing as Cloud doesn't remember Zack, I can't help thinking he's leaving it on pretty much for Cloud's sole benefit. Remember how I told you Cloud reacted to Zack's name before we arrived in Gongaga?"

Tifa nodded thoughtfully at this, and then meandered helplessly about before continuing her walk along the beach. Aerith matched her pace as Tifa said, "So... you said Zack _didn't _know about the Turks' part in the disaster...? Like, he really was genuinely thrown off by this?"

Aerith nodded, "Zack's emotions are something he wears on his sleeves; even when he's trying to hide them. Mind you, he never did know how to properly conceal how he feels a lot of the time- especially if you already know what to look for. If its not in his face, its in his voice. And if its not in either of those places, its in his hands and physical gestures." She inclined her head, placing a delicate digit upon her lower lip, "But still, it makes you wonder though... I wonder how much information Tseng is _actually _sharing with him?"

"Like that isn't worrying at all," Tifa airily added on with a roll of the eyes. "I thought Zack was _friends _with Tseng?"

"While he's never denied that," Aerith elaborated, her frown cementing itself into being. "Its never meant that Zack has ever _fully _trusted Tseng- if at all. Back before his deployment to Nibelheim, he always encouraged me to tell him if the Turks were giving me any trouble. And if they did- he _specifically _told me to let him know so he could do something about it. Although..."

Aerith started tugging at her wrists as she weighed her next words, "Zack did seem really apprehensive of the idea of me knowing about him... For that first while that I talked to him, he didn't even _try _to clue me in- or tell me how he physically felt." Aerith's frown deepened, "-He knows I would've healed him if he just _asked_. It didn't matter if he was or wasn't a real Turk- because even the Turks know I'd help them if their lives were in any real danger. I'd heal him is he was or wasn't a Turk, regardless."

"You're a better person than me," Tifa muttered more to herself than anything, upon remembering her feelings towards Tseng in particular.

"Huh?"

"Er- its nothing," Tifa shrugged off. "Just thinking out loud here."

Aerith raised another dainty brow, but didn't press the issue.

Tifa meanwhile felt her eyes wander to the sands; the waning moon's overhead light just enough so she can see the details along the shore. She sometimes caught the occasional sand flea, scuttling crab, or the distant calls of seabirds; which drew her eyes further along the shore where she could just make out their blackened outlines as they hovered along ocean winds.

She looked back up at Aerith after a fluttering second spent letting this portent sink in. "-Didn't you just say 'Heal him'-?" she quoted distantly.

The Cetra's gaze sobered almost immediately, "He has a breathing problem that he's deliberately trying to sweep under the rug- and I caught the words 'meds' and 'Hendel' when he got a phone call from Cissnei. I believe Hendel is his doctor's name." Her eyes flashed her concern on several degrees, at this. She then gestured, but wasn't quite able to properly convey an adept visualization of said condition as she went on, "-His chest also had this wispy, rattling sound to it. And he had no color in his face and lips other than spotty redness from the heat. He really didn't look that good..."

"Why would Tseng let Zack run around in that condition if its really _that _bad?" Tifa shook her head, finding it somewhat difficult to imagine a man as physically imposing as Zack would be hindered in such a way. From her brief acquaintance with him, Tifa had figured the man almost as much as an untouchable power-house as Sephiroth- watching first-hand how he dealt with the monsters on Mount Nibel. He didn't need to be lethal to be efficient.

"I don't think he has much of a choice," Aerith shrugged. "Once Zack decides he wants to do something, he's going to do it- no matter what anyone says or how he physically feels about it. Even when he's got holes in him, he'll strut around like nothing is wrong. And frankly, I don't think even the Turks have a say in whatever he does or doesn't do- no matter his supposed friendship with them."

Tifa somehow found this funnily adequate; seeing as it meant that Zack wasn't the kind of person to let himself be controlled by the Turks in any way. Although, his out-going behavior would certainly prove detrimental to his own health- and this worry was something she knew Aerith was going to internalize.

"...I understand that he didn't have much time to explain anything to me- seeing as Cissnei was on her way-" Aerith glanced off into the darkness before her, "-But he could've at _least _let me try to properly help him. I mean, I _did _heal him anyways, but even I don't know how effective its going to be if he doesn't stop to relax. He knows from past experiences that I can do a little more than his doctor- given he doesn't try anything too drastic."

Her earlier, aforementioned excitement had certainly all but died now; and so swiftly at that. She sighed wistfully. "...He didn't explicitly tell me that he had a doctor out-right either. Although, I could imagine that the same man whose treating him would be treating Cloud as well," she passed Tifa a somewhat subdued, but slightly happier glance. "-Which is something I've been _really _excited to tell you: that Cloud is finally getting some medical help as we speak. Remember when you and Cloud were attacked at Runen?"

Tifa shook her head, finding this spill of information almost entirely over-whelming in general- let alone _this_. "His blood," she murmured more or less to herself. "Zack took Cloud's blood as a means of-"

"-As a means of treating him. I know!" Aerith gently grabbed Tifa's hand and gave it a slightly enthusiastic shake, as she did before. "Cloud is _actually _getting the care he needs! Frankly, I couldn't be more relieved."

"But... but that would mean there's actually something _really _wrong with him- if Zack feels like its something he has to stay around the Turks for," Tifa said cautiously.

Aerith immediately let the other woman go again; suddenly and reflexively folding her hands at her front in a brief show of her unease. "Zack said he had something called 'J-Cell toxicosis'- which apparently causes all of Cloud's headaches and what-not. He also off-handedly hinted that Cloud had suffered from some sort of mild form of Mako poisoning in the past- seeing as mako is used to help treat this sickness. The latter causes his memory loss."

Tifa stopped here altogether, briefly throwing their distant campfire a glance.

Aerith gently bumped her arm with Tifa's, "For the record, Zack said that the next time we see him, hopefully its with something that'll give Cloud a way to treat it in earnest. Its a sickness that only seems to occur in SOLDIER or Hojo's experiments though. So it doesn't seem to be contagious."

"That's not the part I'm worried about," The former bar-tender said, upon remembering Tseng's words back at Gongaga.

_"-Ah, so that's what he's been telling you," he almost smugly said. "-Its interesting that he's been telling you this even though its __**a lie**__."_

_"-Hojo literally knows why Cloud's behaving the way he is.__** Even I can't fully explain it**__."_

_"-The name you're looking for is J-cell toxicosis; and its responsible for Cloud's questionable state- assuming he has it. As it is, Hojo wanted to __**run tests on him **__when you lot were incarcerated; as he recognized Cloud as a __**missing test subject**__-"_

_"Has Cloud never mentioned anything of __**the last five years**__?"_

_"-Make sure Cloud doesn't do anything __**life-endangering **__to himself or to the people around him- namely Aerith."_

Tifa hadn't budged for the better part of an entire minute; only just now having recalled this vast jumble of information:

Tseng had indeed conveniently dropped so many truth bombs on her that it had become a disorganized series of recollections with no distinguishing detail standing out more-so than the other. Everything he said was quite damning; and a whole other reason to worry even _more_. She hadn't known what to tell Aerith first the following day; and she only had an single opportunity to tell her the next time they got that room in Runen. Their following encounter with Zack finished pushing a lot of the details out of her mind.

On the side, its not that Tifa had forgotten it or didn't mention it out of negligence- but more so the fact that she'd placed it in the back of her mind for a little while. Tifa had wondered if the Turk's words were even _true_; a kind of ruse meant to deliberately frustrate and befuddle her. Having said that, she'd placed the information as far back as she could; deciding not to stress over what might be false information; or because its so worrying within itself that Tifa had no real means of helping Cloud- and it would distract her from her battles to come.

In fact, that same night she told Aerith these details, most of it had steadily trickled away. Tifa had tried to furiously recall as much as she could from that night; although she'd only managed to successfully convey to Aerith that 'Hojo' and 'J-cell something' had been the primary details that stood chief amongst the rest of the fragmented bull-shit. Tifa's budding stress levels had grown in all that time; and it finished driving out whatever other little detail Tseng could've offered.

In all actuality, she'd technically already knew a lot of this information- but Tseng had been pretty clear when he said he hadn't had any means of confirming if it was all true. It was no wonder literally the next night over he'd sent Zack to collect the sample when he did- Even _Tseng _hadn't been sure of what he told her; and its not like he could've offered his enemy any credible proof- especially since he and Tifa weren't on the best of terms.

Tifa had spaced out long enough to garner Aerith's attention; with the flower merchant going to prod her friend back to sobriety. "Uh, Tifa? Hello there-?" she tried, gently pressing her finger-tips into the other woman's arm.

Tifa blinked off her whirling spiral and turned towards her companion, "Aerith... did Zack say anything else in particular that was... yunno, maybe a little more _helpful_-?"

Aerith blinked at her, retracting her hand and fisting it over her breast, "Nothing more in regards to Cloud himself, no... But even _he _said that he didn't much understand Tseng's own personal stakes in this and why he'd want to help Cloud- other than doing it as favor for a friend."

Tifa blinked at this, and then ducked her head down while gouging rows into the moistened sands with her toes. "Out of curiosity," she inquired out of a suddenly intrusive surge of inquisitiveness- and some other misplaced emotion she wasn't quite sure she was identifying correctly. "I know this is a random question and all, but... When you met up with Zack again, did he actually seem _happy _to see you-? Like... I mean, it _has_ been five years... He didn't seem _that _different to you, right? Like he still seemed..."

_Credible? Trustworthy? __**Himself?**_

Instead of voicing these words however, she motioned airily, unsure as to how she could finish the sentence. She didn't want to insult Zack, but she still wasn't sure how she felt about a man who wore a mask in front of his friends and familiars; even if it was for Cloud's own good.

Aerith's following flummoxed appearance couldn't have looked more hilarious- even if it did last only a fleeting second. After the initial shock of this query, she out-right giggled and threw her hands behind her back; grinning all the while. "Well," she tried, her face warming several degrees. "He didn't act like he was _disinterested_ in any way... He may not have acted like it at first, but he left me the impression that he still wanted to pursue our relationship again. His gestures were rather self-explanatory."

_She's getting the wrong impression._

Instead of trying to clarify her meaning, Tifa however decided to go with it; even though she felt mixed about it. "...Really?" she said with a raised brow, somehow finding this portent a _little _impressive on the side. Five years was definitely a long time to be putting a relationship on hold; and the fact that Aerith was _still _talking so fondly of Zack had to say something for itself. Right?

Aerith folded her hands behind her back and whirled just enough for her dress ends to gently lift in the passing wind, her expression as close to an answer as Tifa was going to get. Although, there was no denying the level of thoughtfulness to it; as if Aerith herself was still carefully considering her previous query. Eventually, she did say as a response to Tifa's query, "I... I'd certainly hope so."

_So... is he really __**that **__good a person? _Tifa couldn't help thinking upon hearing this. _Aerith did say he was helping Cloud... but to what end? Is it really because he's genuinely concerned as a friend, or is he really following orders from Tseng?_

"...Aerith, can I ask you something else?"

"Yeah?"

Tifa felt her lips thin a bit, and then, "Are you sure Zack is actually, _legitimately _going out of his way to do this? I know a lot of people talk fondly of him and all, but I'm still not sure what to believe." Tifa's hands went behind her back as well, her toe digging even deeper ruts into the ocean-kissed sand. After muscling up the nerve, she went on to say, "...How do you really know he really isn't an _actual _Turk whose following orders? I know that's a bad assumption to make and all, but... I dunno _what _to think-"

Aerith suddenly stepped past Tifa, her eyes following along the foamy details of the warmed waters rolling alongside them. She said, "-The Zack I know doesn't have the emotional fortitude for it. Turks can willingly turn off their emotions so to follow the most hideous of orders- something Zack has _never _been known to do. In fact, Turks even get _special _training on how to do this so they can be made more effective. Zack can't even pony up the balls to kill monsters a lot of the time, despite all his SOLDIER conditioning and 'enhancements'."

Tifa looked away, remembering the Mt. Nibel expedition again. This much information seemed to hold true, at least.

Aerith meanwhile went on, "-Turks are living weapons that never needed the 'special surgery' to do their jobs. Moreover, when I saw Zack's reaction to Cloud's words about the plate fall, it just concreted it for me-" She turned sharply, her eyes steeled, "Tseng isn't telling everything to him on purpose- so to spare Zack the emotional baggage that naturally comes with being a Turk. If Zack was actually training to be one, Tseng wouldn't have cut corners him just because they're 'friends'." She shook her head almost furiously, "He'd let Zack know _exactly _what he's in for when it comes to being a true Turk. You'd need all the emotional training you can get."

Tifa hummed noncommittally at this, moving a thoughtful hand to her chin.

Aerith's following smile was a more tender one, "Even Tseng has admitted to me a long time ago that Zack's superiors gave him flak about his losing focus- which is just another way of saying he lets his emotions rule his judgement. If he really _is _a genuine Turk recruit, he wouldn't have been so shocked about their part in the Sector Seven disaster, and he would've been wearing some kind of variant of their uniform on the side." Aerith bobbed her shoulders, the ocean sea-breeze tugging playfully at her braid, "-If Zack really is one, he would've saved Palmer from Cloud too. Right?"

Tifa nodded, folding her arms in consideration of this. _But still_, she couldn't help thinking. _If someone like Zack really is the kind of person who cares THAT much about another... wouldn't he theoretically still be the kind of person whose willing to become the bad guy in order to save what he loves? How many people could he have hurt, or was willing to hurt, just to get to this point-? Assuming he's done that-_

_...Hm, or maybe not... Maybe he IS just that good of a person; as incredibly unbelievable as that is. But... No one is THAT good a person; its just not realistic. __And I know even I'm no exemption from that rule... Not after having helped plant reactor bombs and ruining people's lives for the sake of revenge._

"-Although," Aerith trailed off somewhat ruefully, interrupting Tifa's sideways doubts. "-I admittedly can't help thinking about how _different _he felt... Like whatever barrier that had stood between us before is now some sort of great, yawning _gap _that can't be crossed in any way." Her fingers twiddled around their respective opposites behind her back, "He was acting so _weird_... I can't quite describe it."

She shook her head, "And his appearance aside... He wouldn't admit it out loud, but I can see what the effects of what the last five years has done to him. Besides his irregular breathing and detached behavior, I can't help wondering if Cloud isn't the only one whose paid Hojo's lab a visit." Her gaze locked upon a certain, invisible object only she can see; her beryl gaze miles away. "-Now, I don't know if that's true in any way, but I couldn't help thinking it... It _would _explain why he hasn't come back in so long..."

Tifa felt her own uncertain gaze wander across the undulating, obsidian waves as well. The diamond-edged, moon-dotted foam tips a constant flurry of glinting spears pitching too and fro in the weary dark; a roiling ripple of shifting gems cut from the same stone.

"...You think he's an experiment of Hojo's too?" she lowly offered.

"Hm. Him and Cloud. Maybe. Not that he told me this directly."

Tifa once again focused her gaze on their distant campfire, finding this information more upsetting than anything: As it meant that Zack not only knew something was wrong with Cloud, but he was hiding himself and his information from both his and Cloud's respective familiars. He was selectively choosing to keep secrets; not even willingly seeking out his girl-friend and her healing help after five whole years had gone by. Tifa also couldn't help remembering Greg's words; her thoughts as to help reason for Zack's new and reclusive nature may have some sort of good reason in its existence:

_"Well... if my boy's like me when I was his age, he wouldn't have wanted to keep a lady friend waitin'; especially somebody as kind as you. If he did quit Shinra, he'd gone straight back to you in Midgar. But if he ran into some sorta trouble, he wouldn't have wanted to bring it around you or us for that matter. He'd avoid us if Shinra's as bad about desertions as I hear." _

Tifa folded her arms again, wishing she knew for certain what this all meant. Its bad enough that Zack was choosing to stay with the Turks and risk exposure; if this was really the case.

"Yunno," Aerith eventually went on, once again hijacking the conspiracy train Tifa was about to board. "Maybe you should go and talk to Cloud."

"Huh-?" Tifa snapped out of her thoughtful daze, only to blink in mild confusion at the other.

Aerith turned to face Tifa entirely; her expression this troubling mix of wistful concern and something else the former bar-tender just couldn't put a label on. Perhaps doleful serenity- if that made any sense. Over and over, these influx of misunderstood sensations lapped into view; only to elude and frustrate Tifa with their intangibility.

"When you have a moment, you should go talk to him-" Aerith jerked her head at the direction of their camp-site; visible only by the glittering speck that was their fire. "I know Cloud could certainly do with the company- with somebody he's never had any true qualms of opening up to."

Tifa dipped her head; almost shamefully at that. "...I've been trying to talk to Cloud for a while, but he doesn't seem to be interested in conversation. He just flashes hot and cold so much-" she huffed.

Aerith stepped closer to Tifa, even being so boldest as to reach for the other woman's gloved hand and cupping it within her own. "I know, but you gotta keep _trying_," she almost beseeched. "...And while Cloud can be difficult, he's most likely to open up to _you _more so than anyone else. If its any consolation, I think he inwardly appreciates the attempts you put towards trying to talk to him."

"You think so?"

"I don't see why not," Aerith shrugged. "I'm just saying; I know there may not be too much you two could talk about, but I think your company is all that matters to him. I say you give it a go and keep doing what you're doing." Her smile returned with this glowing, sunny warmth that could only gently kiss skin; a gesture that could never burn. "Go talk to him; walk with him- _Something_. It may not have to be tonight, but I'm telling you that the sooner you try, the better you'll both feel. You probably don't even have to say anything at _all_, for all we know. Sometimes the silence is enough."

"Huh-?"

Aerith squeezed Tifa's hand; the grip something akin to motherly. Tifa could only look between their shared skin and her more intense eyes; the verdant greens a subtle, phantom glow in the gentle darkness.

Eventually Aerith let go and turned towards their camp fully, deciding that the conversation was at an abrupt end. She paused to say over her shoulder, "You don't need to worry so much. I know that in time, Cloud will come out of that hard shell himself- Whether or not Zack helps his ailment or you wheedle your way in. And when that day happens, the fog that separates him from you will clear."

Aerith smiled rather whimsically; and then she bustled her way across the sands in cheery, if not elegant silence. Tifa could only look on in mild confusion, her mind landing upon the mystifying concept of Aerith's sense of hardened confidence and where she could've gotten it. Whether or not its something she learned from Zack or from some other unforeseen event eluded her.

One thing was for sure though- Tifa knew her desire for a solidifying and constant comfort to remain rooted into her life was an unrealistic notion. But, perhaps not so much so if she had Cloud there to help her fill it.

Minerva only knows if she could do the same for him.

* * *

~777~

_**-At the same time-**_

He couldn't do it.

He just... couldn't.

He really didn't have the balls to do it.

When push came to shove, Zack had truly considered using his shape-shift materia to conceal himself from Aerith, but after everything he's been through (not to mention his lack of ability of to properly _lie_, per se), he wouldn't have managed to successfully pull it off- Let alone do this to AERITH of all people.

Not that he could, of course. Because to be fair, Aerith was damn near physic whenever it came to him, and it low-key weirded him out. Ah, but he always did think normal was over-rated now, didn't he?

On the side, when Cissnei picked him up, the first thing she'd noticed was just how _well _off Zack was. He was still clearly exhausted, but he showed no signs or symptoms of _any _of his ailments- minus the usual colorless complexion and sweating more than usual (something that's attributed to his wearing warm, heavy, dark clothes during summer-level heat). The girl had whipped out her borrowed stethoscope from the medical kit Hendel gave her quicker than Zack ever remembered; racing around him in a furious tizzy and checking for any other abnormalities- to which he had _none_.

**None!**

Upon seeing him like this, the first thing Cissnei did was ask him about the mission and what he did; to which Zack reciprocated that he'd rather explain it when they're behind closed doors. Cissnei thankfully agreed and the trio loaded onto the bird; with Zack nodding off in his seat not ten minutes there-after into the ride. Cissnei wouldn't be getting her answers until they checked into a hotel later that same night.

To keep a low profile, Cissnei used straight, physical gil to pay for their rooms instead of using her card; something Shinra would no doubt track electronically. The trio was now resting at some kind of sea-side town just a little further north of Rocket Town; only some couple of hours after picking up Zack. This town was pretty meager and small compared to the Costa Del Sol and Junon; but a place that traded frequently with the Bone Village and Icycle areas sitting just a little further north.

Cissnei had to order a single room; and its a relatively small space that was built similarly to the hotel room in Nibelheim. Three beds, a single bathroom, and with all the basic amenities. The hotel was a little shoddy on the side; but a place no one would go looking for them from Shinra headquarters.

And now, some few hours after getting picked up, Zack found himself sitting on the middle bed; naked from the waist-up. Cissnei continuously and studiously surveyed his weary form; pursing her lip and shaking her head. She's been checking Zack over and over for the last while; trying to wrap her head around this baffling phenomena before her. She stood back, shook her head some more, and then went right back to inspecting him. She'd kept tapping him with her stethoscope; checking his breathing and general pain sensitivity. Upon seeing no reaction, she frowned and wrinkled her nose in that sneezing kitten-like way.

Eventually, she seemed to find herself at some sort of mental impasse and promptly seated herself on the bed. She sat within Zack's own personal bubble- something he never imagined her outwardly and willingly initiating _first _since she's usually pretty clear about her level of comfort within a certain distance of another person. She locked eyes with him; her cool topaz stare boring straight into his naked _soul _like she was his little shoulder angel silently judging his every action.

"...Okay. So now, I'm at a complete and total loss," she began. She clapped her hands together and gesticulated with a downward, slicing motion, "...Just how in the bleeding hell did you almost completely recover from your traumatic pneumothorax in just a span of a _few freaking hours_... WHILE being in the midst of physically strenuous mission... against Rufus and Palmer's _**own personally hand-picked SOLDIER guards**_... _WHILE _dealing with the aftermath of a plane crash that should've DEFINITELY aggravated your chest?"

She stopped, closed her eyes, huffed, and then added in this brittle monotone, "Like... how in Minerva's holy name did you even _do _this-? It doesn't make _any _sense!"

Now, taking his next breath has always been an enduring adversity; a trial that Zack has managed to hold his own against for quite some time now. Weeks had gone by since his release from the hospital; not including the two he'd been _in_. And even after checking out of the Turk's private hospital, _still_ Zack's breathing difficulties had persisted. Had he taken the time to relax and not go after AVALANCHE as he did, he should've largely healed on his own by now. But he hadn't- which was to be expected, considering his active lifestyle.

Sure, when Aerith had healed him that first time at the Costa Del Sol, he'd admittedly thought he was genuinely getting better. For that whole week after their fateful meeting at the resort, Zack hadn't really paid much notice to his lack of reaction to his dyspnea- something that usually happens to him after large bouts of physical activity. When he hung off of that chandelier in the Shinra Manor foyer that week after meeting Aerith again and nailed that landing from the dismount, he hadn't been that tired at _**all**_. For that matter, he hadn't really felt _anything _after doing random athletic bull-shit like this- And this he thought he could attribute to his natural SOLDIER stamina coming back and not so much something Aerith did.

Its only after meeting Vincent and having that seemingly random attack in the middle of his conversation with him that it happened: Zack's dyspnea had violently reacted with Cloud's own fit; at that _exact _moment. And in the morning following this fit, Zack's condition went right back to _**square freaking one**_. His traumatic pneumothorax went back to being a profound problem; with the man somewhat silently dreading every moment that such an episode would happen again. But now, this was no longer the case-

Or at least, so it appeared to him. There really was no way of knowing for sure until push came to shove. For all he knew, he may not be cured of all; if only temporarily relieved.

For right now though, Zack could feel Vincent's eyes upon him; glinting curiously in the ambient lighting of their shared hotel room. The elder man was just as curious as his female companion, but didn't betray the same outward signs. However, there was no mistaking that weirdly intense scrutiny; conjoined with Vincent's even weirder lack of _blinking_.

Zack felt his mouth slip open once, but then he clamped it back and surveyed the girl sitting just within a couple feet of him. Honestly, he didn't know what to say, nor where to even _start_. The one thing that's been on his mind for the last few hours after his departure from the beach was how he was going to explain to Cissnei that both Aerith and Tifa now knew about him; let alone the fact that his breathing had been largely rectified _**twice **_over now-

In fact, he never told her about the _first _time Aerith had healed him. He'd been too timid to bring it up; only going on to tell Cissnei about his run-in with Yuffie. Frankly, he wouldn't know how to address his current position without telling Cissnei about the prior incident anyways. Moreover, there just wasn't any way to properly understand what the difference between Aerith healing him then and now even _was_.

Why had it been so much more effective this time? And, if it had been so effective the first time around, how come Cloud's own fit reset his condition? Assuming that was the case. Would it happen again? Would Zack ever get _over _this abominable infirmity?

Zack continued flapping his trap, and then shrunk in on himself and hung his head. He just wanted to wrap himself up in his bedding and be left alone for the whole rest of the night; and to shower off his annoyingly persistent mako-stink and sweat accumulated from the throes of his day. He was already plenty self-conscious about the astringent and sharp scent; inwardly knowing that Aerith hadn't found anything about it good.

Her expression when she'd locked eyes with him had said enough: She may have immediately shrugged it off and smiled happily, even flirting back enough to leave some hope in his heart- but there was no denying the effects the scent of mako had on people. It was like a badge of your lack of normality; something that betrayed you either had a mako addiction, a condition from an accident with it in general, or you were SOLDIER. All of these things were bad signs within itself, and Zack already qualified for the latter two out of these three things.

As for Cissnei, he knew he couldn't lie to her; and for a huge slew of reasons beyond the obvious: He knew he wasn't any good at keeping his tone of voice modulated, despite his relatively well-honed poker face. Cissnei would know from sound _alone _that he was trying to alter some part of his story. She was also trained to scent a lie from a mile off; so there's that.

Whenever Zack omitted some parts (like the incident at the Costa Del Sol), he's a little more likely to fool her; but its never going to last for very long. So instead, he usually deferred to the safer approach of employing some truths that would distract from the original topic at hand- things he knew he couldn't lie about, even if he really tried. Like when he ran into Yuffie for instance; the incredible coincidence within itself had been enough for Cissnei. After that, she hadn't tried to probe him for anymore information; being kind enough to confide within Zack's story.

And this had left him feeling _plenty_ guilty about it- especially since he's never actually had to block her out of whatever weird facet of his life happened nowadays. Somehow, Cissnei had become someone he could pretty much whole-heartedly trust; no matter what he said or did. She took care of him; and was doing so _right now_.

He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth. This time around, he told himself that he knew there was no clear way he could avoid this enormous elephant in the room. He was pretty much largely healed- with the novel exception of his J-cells keeping him from healing completely. The cells were far too resilient for that- and something Zack felt Aerith couldn't treat even if she did know about them. Its not like she can undo four years worth of genetic modification in just one sitting- plus the years he's actually been in SOLDIER- thanks to a certain mad scientist in particular. Those side-effects are the ones that'll stay with him for the rest of his life- that he was plenty sure of.

So, the former SOLDIER hung his head further and set his jaw; unable to find any decent way to begin. He glanced up at his female compatriot on occasion, feeling his winding gut get further churned and repulsed by the idea of actually _lying _to her. He knew he just couldn't do it- and its not like he _wanted _too either.

_Especially after all the shit she puts herself through for you, _said some cutting, sarcastic whisper furiously jabbing its way into his noggin. _She deserves every bit of truth you can give her so she can actually __**help**__ your stupid ass._

Zack huffed; finding his ability to breathe obscenely easy to perform- something that continuously shocked him over and over after having been struggling with it for so long. Its no wonder he fell asleep so quickly only a few minutes into the helicopter ride. Admittedly, he still wasn't entirely sure if his condition would flare up again if Cloud had another fit- But with Aerith and Tifa watching over him, Zack couldn't help feeling a little inwardly relieved that the events of today had happened the way it did. He shut his eyes, feeling his shoulders slump heavily as he came to the conclusion that indeed, he _should _say something to Cissnei- even by principle.

He at least owed her _that_.

So, with all the apparent resignation of a hung man willingly walking towards the gallows, he dead-panned in the most Tseng-like way ever, "...Aerith healed me- and now she apparently knows who I am. She and Tifa both."

There. He said it. Not that he was very happy about it. Although, he had to admit that it felt _much_ better to do this than to withhold the information in general.

He'd shut his eyes when he said this, quite unable to muster the balls to meet her likely annoyed, angry, disappointed, disgruntled, or _whatever _other expression. For all of his brazen, steel-clad nerve, it seemed the one thing that will always make even the stalwart Zack Fair take pause would be the inevitable, spiritually and morally draining disappointment on a woman's pretty face- Especially when it came to his mom, Aerith _and _Cissnei. Or all of the above. So instead, Zack had settled for resting his heavy arms on his knees and slumping tiredly; still feeling the effects of his exhaustion fraying at his already tattered nerves.

For some wholesome minute, Cissnei was silent; the atmosphere very much holding a bated breath that felt unusually similar to Zack's own condition. Said man merely continued to hold his defeated position, eventually entwining his hands together and feeling the childish desire to twiddle his thumbs. He may not feel weighted down by his condition at this moment, but it still didn't mean he could breathe _that _easily.

As for his Turk companion, Zack caught the lengthy release of a long-held sigh; and then he felt the bed shift and creak. "You said Aerith... _and _Tifa. Not anyone else. Right?"

Zack nodded, opening his eyes if only to stare despondently at the floor. "Yeah," he confirmed. "-And I told Aerith not to say anything to anyone either. But Tifa though..." He lifted his head there, staring pensively at the wall opposite of him, "-Tifa was the one who actually figured it out. Not that I ever told either of them _anything _about myself at any point."

He finally turned towards Cissnei, a little curious of what her reaction to this portent would actually be. He still felt infinitely horrible, uneasy and guilty; as if he'd deliberately went out of his way to inform Aerith about his current position. But to be fair, he had to console himself with the fact that he didn't. If nothing else, the real reason why he decided to confess to this new development wasn't just because he felt Cissnei deserved the truth.

As for the smaller individual beside him, her attention was firmly arrested upon the space between them; her expression the very epitome of flummoxed and calculated. She was likely trying to divine where and how Tifa could've found the lie; the Turk frowning increasingly more as she considered their previous, limited interactions with AVALANCHE.

Eventually, she looked up at Zack and asked simply, "How-? I don't understand. We only ran into them two times _tops_! How could Tifa have known? You said yourself she doesn't even know you that well!"

Zack planted both palms on his knees and squared his shoulders, huffing in the process. "-Aerith said Tifa put the pieces together, but the biggest clue she got was something she received directly from- and get this-" He lifted a hand and raised a single index finger. "-From _Tseng _himself!"

Whatever her prior expressions, Cissnei was abruptly replacing them with something that Zack couldn't ever mistaken. Nothing but pure, unadulterated confusion that bled easily across her features; her eyes narrowed and disbelieving.

Zack went on to say, "-According to Aerith, Tseng delivered a message to her _through _Tifa; saying something about him making due on his word to deliver all of Aerith's letters to me. He never told Tifa anything about me directly, and was said to avoid all questions she could've posed." Zack slapped hard, iron-colored brows upon both of his matched robin-egg colored eyes, "But still, it makes me wonder when he coulda done that, and _why_. Yunno?"

Cissnei opened her mouth, but it was Vincent who spoke up this time, "Tseng doesn't come off as the kind of person who'd carelessly make the mistake of tipping off or hinting at his greater secrets for just any reason. Personally, I can't help thinking if he asked Miss Lockhart to deliver this message for some obscured, deliberately pre-made agenda." His brows dipped even further, "If he really wanted to relay a message so badly, then he wouldn't have had to involve a third party; no matter the circumstance."

At this, the female Turk darted her steely amber orbs at the elder man, "-Or maybe we're just over-thinking it. He tried so hard to keep Zack concealed from everything and everyone, but to do this-" She focused on the ex-SOLDIER next, "-We all know that it would implicate the Turks, _and _inevitably allow AVALANCHE to know Zack is alive- whether indirectly or not. He'd NEVER do this! Not on purpose..."

Zack held up both hands and slapped them on his thighs, "Hey, I'm just as confused as _you _are! Its not like I had the time to ask Aerith about it-"

Cissnei's face immediately turned waspish, although her tone remained stiffly modulated. She jabbed a furious finger at him, "-And _you _should've known better to use the shape-shift materia to get her off your trail! It would've thrown Tifa in for a loop as an added bonus! That's partially the reason why Tseng gave it to you in the first place!"

The taller individual threw up his hands, although the gesture was more or less dismissive and not really agitated. He shut his eyes again in tired resignation, "Yeah yeah, I know, I _know_... You're right. I did a dumb." He planted his hands back on his knees, "But for what's it worth, I don't think I coulda managed the transformation anyways; nor make it stay convincingly solid long enough with me being so damn worn out. Other than that, I found out the hard way today that Aerith isn't gonna be fooled by cloak anymore; and even if she was, it wouldn't be for very long." Zack clenched his jaw, "So if that spell doesn't work, why would a flimsy, half-assed shape-shift spell be any different?"

Cissnei folded her arms, her nose wrinkling more. She looked ready to lecture him, but thankfully didn't press the issue; seeing as she knew he wasn't entirely wrong. For good measure, she even spared Vincent a cursory glance; only for the elder man to mutely nod back to her as if to confirm Zack's words. Upon this silent exchange, she returned her attention to the ex-SOLDIER.

"So I've been thinking," Zack went on, a little encouraged by her continued silence. "Seeing as they know about me, maybe we can take advantage of it? We can ask Aerith how Tifa came to this conclusion in the first place- And see how Tifa's encounter with Tseng went. Yunno?"

Cissnei suddenly sighed like she was both tired and aggravated herself; but then she moved a weary hand to her chin in a contemplative motion. She hummed at something next, her gaze reflective. She glanced back up at him after a ponderous minute.

"...While I'd usually discourage the idea of outright going to tell Aerith _anything _about what we're doing, let alone going to see her for _any _reason where Shinra can potentially see us-" She winced at this. "-Even I can't see myself _not _asking her about this. On the side-" She folded her arms as Zack had, "Aerith has known Tseng for about as long as I have; if not longer. She may know why he's done this, or she could help us figure out why he'd do it at all. Maybe..."

"Yeah! That's what I was thinking," Zack nodded.

Cissnei stood up from the bed and meandered around in front of him, steps muffled as she glided bare-footed across the stone-blue carpet. Her expression darkened marginally, "-I can't help wondering... Aerith is someone who wouldn't willingly blurt out secrets, and its not like Shinra would want to torture this exact information out of her unless they're deliberately and specifically looking for anything on _you _in particular. Now that I'm thinking about it, her knowing about you isn't such a _huge _problem..." She turned towards her tired compatriot, "So I think its fair to say that we can trust Aerith with some of the information, for now. Although, I still don't know enough about Tifa to be as sure. Didn't you say you knew her for only about a _week_-?"

Zack crossed one leg over the other, slouching into a propped-up hand as his mind fell backward towards five years prior. "...Tifa was, to put it simply, kinda weird," he shrugged. "-And when I say 'weird', I mean she's like, really, _really _secretive. She didn't bother trying to initiate conversation beyond her job as a tour guide, but that coulda been because me and Sephiroth were Shinra personnel."

He wryly twisted the corner of his lips, "If I had to be honest though, I don't think she's the 'talkative' type anyways. If she were, she woulda told Cloud I was involved in the Nibelheim event way back when-" His stare hardened, "-And yet she didn't, choosing to keep her silence instead. Now that I think about it, I bet we can safely say she'll continue to keep her mouth shut. Besides, Aerith promised that she'd make sure my name doesn't crop up at any point. So at the very least, I'm sure Tifa won't say anything; if on Aerith's account."

Cissnei said nothing to this, her brows neatly knitting together. A simple "huh" escaped her, and that was that.

"Like I said," Zack offered with another casual bob in his bare shoulders, suddenly remembering that he needed to put on a shirt at some point. The ceiling fan was making him feel a little chilly admittedly. "-The only thing we can do is ask 'em about what they know when we see 'em. I really don't see the harm in _that_..."

"Maybe," Cissnei returned noncommittally.

"We'd be all the worse off if we didn't," Vincent suddenly imputed; drawing the attention of both of his companions. "We need to be sure that this breach in information isn't coming from a source that would sincerely compromise our position; and confirm the number of people within the knowing in order to assure our safety. Its bad enough that this Tifa had supposedly come to this conclusion from mere conjecture-"

The female Turk shot him a understanding look, nodding all the while. "Yeah. You're absolutely right," she said. "As usual."

Vincent nodded back at her.

She once again turned to Zack, "Okay then... I guess we'll be going after them tomorrow and asking them everything they know about the limit of their knowledge about you, and confirming its origin. If it really did just come from Tseng, then its safe to say that your identity is still relatively secured. If they do however say otherwise..." She winced at this, looking for all intents and purposes like someone who'd just learned that their entire family had been killed in some kind of freak accident. "-Then its safe to say that Rufus will definitely have _ALL_ our skins for this," She apprehensively hugged herself, giving Zack a free indicator of her unease.

Zack nodded grimly, with Vincent's already sullen aura shifting a few shades darker nearby.

Just then, a polite _ping_ expunged the weighty atmosphere of its heady tenebrousity; drawing Cissnei's attention to her brightening phone in her breast pocket. The girl immediately zeroed in on it, swiftly drawing it out just in case it was an update from Cait Sith or some sort of Intel from Tseng himself. Cissnei scrutinized the contents of her phone, blinked a few dazed times, and then texted a response back.

Zack straightened his posture, suddenly looking far more attentive than he'd been for the better part of the last few hours. "Well, is it from him?" he inquired.

Cissnei lowered it and passed Zack a stare he couldn't quite interpret, "Be expecting a call on your cell. Its supposed to be from the boss man himself. Answer it when it rings."

"Tseng, huh?" Zack clarified.

However, much to Zack's immediate and befuddled amazement, Cissnei only shook her head- the motion deliberately drawn out. In fact, her expression even changed to something far more statuesque; more so than any other time he's ever seen it on her.

Just as she said, Zack's older cell went off not more than a few seconds there-after. The man clenched his jaw and passed Cissnei a furtive glance or two before removing the charger from the device and raising it to eye-level. As if to continue perplexing him, the number on it wasn't anything he recognized. There was no name either. Zack let it ring for another second just to confirm whether or not he should pick it up at all; but upon seeing the fixed steel on Cissnei's face, he reluctantly obliged. He raised the phone to his ear, feeling his face blank out as a freezing, muted dread spiked his nerves.

"Eh, hello-?" Zack tried first.

_"-Garm, right?"_

The ex-SOLDIER cringed; the stern tone greeting his ear every bit as hard as a shovel. This brass baritone wasn't too deep, but it held an experienced, clipped command to its edge that even a SOLDIER superior like Angeal had. In fact, Zack thought it sounded rather eerily similar to his teacher's; and to say it vaguely disturbed him and had firmly taken him off his guard couldn't be closer to the truth.

Zack hesitated, and then, "Y-yes?"

There was a beat, _"...I need a verbal code verification of your identity- to be sure of whom I'm speaking with really __**is **__Garm Sturges. Do you consent to this?"_

Zack actually blinked rather stupidly, and then soundlessly mouthed the request to Cissnei. She read his lips and immediately understood, thankfully reciprocating in a hushed undertone.

So Zack echoed her words with, "Err... Code: Sept-Zero-Hypo-Subject-B-Skol."

_"Confirmed," _said he. _"Its good to actually speak with you, Glaive. My name is Septimus, and I believe this is our first time we've actually directly communicated since the project began. Now, I must ask; are you alone, or is Shuriken with you?"_

Zack had once again been thrown in for a loop when he realized that the man speaking to him knew Cissnei's secret Turk name as well as his own. He darted more glances between she and his device, and then put it back to his ear. "Uh, Shuriken is present," he replied uncertainly.

_"Is Tri-Barrel there as well?"_

"Y-yeah, but... Holy shit," Zack mumbled without intending on it. "How do you know Vince too-?"

Vincent was seen narrowing his eyes at this, dipping his head further into his high-collar.

_"Tseng had informed me," _said the man on the phone, his tone almost humored. _"If you don't mind my asking though, Glaive, but are you alone with them and is your environment secured?"_

"As secure as a hotel room can get."

_"-Hm. I suppose it'll suffice. Knowing Cissnei, she's likely to have already checked for any suspicious equipment."_

"She did, yeah," Zack confirmed. He then added with fleeting humor, "That and bed-bugs."

_"Ah, alright then. Put me on speaker, but be sure the volume isn't at its highest setting. I have something to say to you all."_

Zack was now thoroughly over-cooked in the brains department; but he obliged the request nonetheless. He kept his phone's speaker volume around medium, and then held it up to Cissnei and Vincent.

_"You there, Cissnei?"_

"Yes sir," She promptly replied. Her face was fluctuating between terse and something else- an emotion that Zack wasn't really sure he was quite identifying correctly.

_"Excellent. And I presume Vincent can hear me as well?"_

Zack looked at the elder man; and couldn't help feeling his guts wind into an ever tighter wad as he belatedly noted the cautiously shocked expression etching the other's usually placid persona. Vincent looked honest to God _confused _and out-right surprised at the address. He paused for an uncertain minute as he turned over the words spoken to him. And then he said, "I am-?"

_"Alright. Now that I have all of your attentions," _said he. _"I have some exciting news for each of you. To start us off, I'd like to ask you three to make a detour to my place, when you can. Not that you're in any rush-" _Zack heard something like a chair squeaking in the background, _"-Just be sure its within the week. As it were, I've taken the liberty of uploading the coordinates to this hand-held device in particular. Once you have it logged, make sure all traces of its data is erased and dispose of this phone: Make sure nothing of its existence can be traced or found. I'll have a new cellular device waiting for Garm for when you get here."_

Zack flashed a shocked expression to his companions.

_"Next, be sure to change rides too. Shotgun will be waiting to meet you half way," _he continued to elaborate. _"She'll be able to bring you all back to your assigned vehicle once your excursion is finished. Call her number three hours in advance so she can meet you."_

"Shotgun-?" Zack mouthed to Cissnei.

"That's Freyra," the Turk girl informed him quickly.

"Oh."

After this, the copper-headed girl stepped forward and stopped just shy of Zack, speaking more forwardly to his phone. "-If you don't mind my asking," Cissnei decided to break in. "Can I ask what the reason for this is? I mean, what about AVALANCHE's shadow guard-? They've been taking more pro-active risks and-"

_"I'm already aware of Palmer's death," _he politely interjected. _"-And I've already picked out some fresh agents for insertion. They'll be temporarily replacing you after you call in Freyra. That's what the three hours is for; to let them move to AVALANCHE's location."_

"Ah. Right," Cissnei nodded.

_"Now then, as I'm sure you all want to know," _he continued rather mildly. _"The primary reason for your visit is for me to give you another new assignment __**personally**__\- as well as update you of Sephiroth's whereabouts therein. All this information is a little too sensitive to be spoken through a device that can be hacked at any given second. And I didn't want to use Cissnei's phone either- seeing as Turk devices get checked routinely for any suspicious activity."_

And then he added on, as if to worsen Zack's renewed sense of paranoia, _"Its bad enough Rufus has asked Tseng to acquire Garm's number. We don't need the president to be tracking Zack by any means- let alone with a standard, Shinra-issued device."_

Zack couldn't help that tiny somersault in his gut at this; not at all able to purge the gnawing fear roiling away within his tightening belly. Its no wonder Tseng gave him an older, inexpensive, not-so-smart phone earlier on- as it would be a temporary tool.

_"And-" _Septimus went on with what could be interpreted as a smug inflection. _"I wanted to tell you that we managed to actually scratch up some information on Hojo's projects- as well as succeed in capturing the man himself. He's sitting right here in our holding cell- with Shotgun guarding him as we speak."_

All three individuals jumped at this, Vincent suddenly dropping his previously folded arms and stepping towards Zack's direction. Zack jolted in place while Cissnei excitedly gesticulated.

"I knew it!" she eagerly imputed. "I knew Freyra could do it!"

_"But of course," _Said Septimus, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. _"Did you expect anything less?"_

Cissnei folded her arms, "Personally, its not that I didn't think she can't do it, but more like she _shouldn't_... Tseng was rather specific about the reasons why capturing Hojo so soon could pose a problem."

_"Indeed. However, Hojo has no lab specimens to hide behind here, and no Shinra personnel to defend him from us. He'll no doubt dodge queries for a while, but it goes without saying that we'll eventually figure out what his obsession with Sephiroth and Jenova cells are for-" _There was a pause, the man's following tone clearly contemptuous, _"-And why he decided that its a smart idea to give his subjects so much of the former's DNA."_

Zack snorted at this, with Vincent doing the same nearby. However, the elder man was the one to speak up next. "If I may," he inquired in a lower, more gravelly tone than before. It betrayed some semblance of his impatience; as far as Zack knew. "-We all know Hojo isn't going to let himself fall victim to any direct methods of interrogation. We also know him well enough to understand that if he truly does feel the need to bury his secrets with him, he'll happily do so."

_"True," _said the project leader. _"But while Hojo is admittedly difficult, it isn't impossible to get what we need from him. He's usually more liable to speak of his failures than projects he deems a working success- with Cloud and Zack falling within the former category." _Zack could almost see the man shrugging at this._ "-Strangely enough, he's never really readily concealed information on what he considers his 'broken toys' anyways- In fact, he __even __seems to __**relish **__talking about them in exquisite detail as if it'll help him understand why they failed when they did- or its to psych out his current subjects."_

"Ah, like the comic-book bad guy monologing about his diabolical plans?" Zack smirked ironically at that.

_"Well, yes and no. But mostly no." _He paused here, and then, _ "As I've said: its more to help Hojo understand why his failures happen at all. He's an auditory learner; and takes to muttering whenever he's thinking too hard. Having said that, I decided we could advantage of this quirk and mention Cloud to him as a way to bait some of the information out of him- He might want to talk about him for this very reason." _He paused, took a breath, and then said, _"-As well as offer Hojo a small trade in information, should that fail."_

Zack felt his blood pressure sky-rocket then, his grip on his phone tightening to a degree where he _knew _he would inevitably break and warp his device. He had to mentally check himself in order to stop himself from following through on the violent impulse to rend something with his bare hands. Cissnei meanwhile had frowned at the sight of his uncharacteristically brimming fury, her expression wary but understanding.

"B-But- But _why_?" Zack bluntly inquired, his tone brittle; cutting. "I thought the whole plan was to get _**rid **_of him after getting what we _need_-? Not collaborate with him!"

_"It still stands to be that way," _Septimus intoned. _"-He's just not aware of it. I believe he's under the impression that he'll be handed off to Rufus to be thrown into a jail cell in Junon after we get what we need. Getting information about __**what **__he did to you and Cloud won't be the hard part." _He paused here, as if for dramatic effect. And then, _"-But it'll be the __**why**__ we won't understand. That's the most important part- as we believe its connected to Sephiroth's more recent behaviors."_

Zack shot glances between his companions, and they in-turn. "What," he clipped. "-Is this _motivation _of his that important?"

_"Believe it or not, yes," _said he. _"It'll tell us something about the threat level of these J-cells themselves; more so than what we already know. He's already spent more than **decades** of his life trying to unravel their mysteries; and admittedly, we'd be remiss to ignore the reasoning for it. And while Hojo's methods have always been... caustic-" _He huffed almost exasperatedly there, _"-You can't say he isn't frustratingly __**effective**__ with the results he reaps."_

Vincent was heard uttering a thoughtful "Huh" at this, making Zack and Cissnei jointly look up at him with mild amounts of confusion. He must have come down to some kind of elusive thought, but Zack didn't bother asking at the moment. In truth, the ex-SOLDIER had expected to _feel _Vincent's brimming fury permeate the room like fermented cat-piss; as its certainly how Zack himself felt at the second.

Septimus went on, _"Anyways, I think its safe to say that if we liberally share what we know about Sephiroth's whereabouts, Hojo will be more receptive to communication- As it seems Hojo has been following any leads on Sephiroth himself, and he's __**quite **__interested in knowing what we have to share in edge-wise. His theories will actually help us understand the importance and connection between Sephiroth and Jenova, and what and where he's going and doing."_

"Okay but, I still don't understand," Zack grumbled. "-What else is there to know about Sephiroth when we already know about the cells being injected his body before birth? What other connection _could_ there be?"

_"Now that truly is the million gil question," _Septimus said. _"-And its something only Hojo may be able to answer- as no one seems to know Sephiroth better than the 'good' doctor himself." _There was yet another pause here, as if the man was trying to get his thinking cap on. And then, _"Did Tseng ever mention Sephiroth's appearance at the Shinra building in Midgar?"_

"He did in passing, yeah," Zack confirmed, wondering what the man was trying to lead him into. For all Zack knew, Septimus thought along the same, abstract way Tseng does.

_"Did he ever mention how Sephiroth took the entire Jenova specimen with him that same night?"_

Now this was the part that certainly confused Zack. Right then his brain screeched to a grinding halt. "No," he trailed off. He folded his arms, holding the phone closer to his mouth, "I don't think he did-? Either that, or... I just forgot about it."

_"Hm. Well, if he did forget to tell you, it wasn't deliberate. Its more a small over-sight on his part," _Septimus seemed to shrug off; not that Zack could tell over the phone. _"Its not really meant to be a secret he'd want to keep from you. But yes, Sephiroth himself now seems to have a vested interest in Jenova beyond his whole preconception of this thing being his 'mother'. Its odd enough he left that arm of the specimen on the ship you and Cissnei were on. I can't help wondering if he's __**weaponizing **__it in some way?"_

Zack blinked furiously and shot Cissnei a weird look; only to see that she too was puzzled by this.

_"Anyways," _continued the enigmatic man. _"We want to understand Sephiroth's motives using Hojo's Intel as a means of tracking him. While we've been successful at sighting Sephiroth at some places, its never for very long- and certainly not long enough to help us understand what he's doing or where he's going." _Zack heard him take a breath, _"So, getting Hojo to tell us about not just the project you were involved in, but to better understand Sephiroth himself is optimal. For that matter, keeping Hojo alive for the time-being is absolutely essential, as loathe as I am to say this to __you __and Vincent of all people."_

"But it still doesn't mean he'll opt to willingly tell you this," Vincent stated suspiciously. "-Or if what he says could even be the _truth_. He'll definitely try to withhold all the information to himself in a bid to keep himself alive, or out of Rufus' hands."

_"We've already considered this as the most likely possibility," _said he. _"-But it cannot be helped. His knowledge is still more important than what we'll ever know._ _We do have a lie detector, among some other well-used and proven methods to help us solidify whatever we can get; but we also know we can only get so much information from him." _Septimus then added on, _"-Not that we'll take what he says at face value. We're wary of the fact that he'll try to throw some misinformation at us, on the side."_

Vincent harrumphed skeptically, but he didn't comment further.

_"-Now, having said this, I do mean it when I say take your time in coming here. We're going to need a little time to get what we need from Hojo before your arrival. And whenever you do come," _he continued. _"I'll have Garm here dispose of the 'evidence'. He and Vincent can jointly do this if they so desire."_

That's when Zack felt it; that uncharacteristically cruel streak racing through him in stampeding excitement. He knew Vincent can feel it too; the desire to exact upon Hojo what he's wrought to them. Suddenly in a slightly more chipper mood, Zack reclined on his bed and propped his pillow high enough so he could lean against it; throwing one arm behind his head while the other continued to hold the phone for his companions.

"So you're saying," he began slowly, watching Vincent's gaze shift murkily beneath the over-hanging shadow of his bandanna. "-That me and Vince here will be free to get rid of Hojo our own way once you're done with him?"

_"If you want to," _said the enigmatic man.

"Welp, I got no problems with that. You, Vince?"

"None," came the terse, growling agreement.

_"Alright then," _Septimus went on, deciding not to comment on that. _"Figured I'd at least let you know. Head on over to the rendezvous point within the next few days when you're ready. I won't be keeping you lot here for too long."_

"Thank you sir," Cissnei said. "We truly appreciate it."

_"Its not me you should be thanking, but sure," _he returned with what Zack could presume was a verbally dismissive wave. _"I'll be seeing you three later. Good night."_

And without letting Zack or Cissnei get the second to spare the enigmatic man a word in edgewise, the line went silent. Zack's phone hummed the dead dial tone for a few long seconds before Zack managed to remember to do something with himself and locked his device. He turned towards his female companion, shaking his head disbelievingly.

"...Wow. That guy couldn't be any stiffer than a rigid prick, even if he _wanted _to," He snickered, grinning half-heartedly all the while.

Cissnei's lips twisted wryly, "That's Sir for you. He's like that one stern uncle or grandpa everybody is scared of but they know he's a decent guy underneath. Although, he can be _super _serious and _super _scary."

"Wha- even to _you_-?" Zack said. "-Of all people?"

"Yeah, even me," she shrugged. "-As incredibly unlikely as that seems."

Zack chuckled good-naturedly. "Yeah, well... He kinda low-key reminded me of Angeal," he admitted. "He even kind of talked the same way too. I thought he seemed a little stiff."

The smaller individual had her turn to giggle fondly at this, her eyes a benign light that Zack found rather strange. It beheld a charming glow that he wasn't sure he was hallucinating- but it was gone as soon as he caught it.

_Perhaps_, he reflected. _She feels the same about this Sir as I do about Angeal._

"Well," Cissnei eventually huffed. "-I guess its fair to say we'll need an early start tomorrow if we hope to catch AVALANCHE before they scoot off to Minerva-knows-where... and we'll need to get that ride to Sir's hideout as soon as we can. I know he said we can take our time while he gathers Intel on you and Cloud, but I want to at least get your phone replaced sooner rather than later- As you'll need it."

Zack nodded, feeling somewhat thrilled by the idea of finally getting the chance to meet this man. He turned to Vincent next; suddenly remembering the advent confusion he saw when Septimus had first called them. "Yo Vince," he jerked his head. "Did you recognize the voice or something?"

"...Hm? Why do you ask?" he inquired.

Zack bumped his shoulders, "You just kinda had that look like you just saw a ghost or somethin'. Either that or I was misinterpreting it."

The elder man shook his head and leaned coolly against the wall, arms crossing over his willowy chest. He did that fluttering motion with his eye-lids; something that always came off as an attempt to blink but he forgot how to do so about mid-way. "Admittedly," he said, shaking his head all the while. "I thought he _did _sound rather familiar, but I could be wrong..."

Zack blinked at this, wondering who in the leaping hell Vincent could've known in the past that could still be around today- _thirty whole years later_. The odds seemed improbable; especially since a person's voice can change dramatically in that span of time. And having heard it over the phone nonetheless, it just seemed borderline ridiculous. Vincent had also never mentioned anyone beyond Lucrecia, Hojo, his father, or the personnel in the Nibelheim Research cell- so this mystery only served to excite Zack.

"Did he sound like an old buddy or something?" the ex-SOLDIER tried instead.

"...He did. Yes."

"Any idea who?" Cissnei asked this time, suddenly finding his reaction just as baffling.

Vincent harrumphed, but then shook his head, "All I can say is that he somewhat sounded like an old partner I had during my earlier assignments before my deployment to Nibelheim. That's all."

"An old Turk buddy, huh-?" Zack concluded.

Vincent harrumphed at him, "Perhaps, but its not like it matters. For all I know, its just a coincidence, and my memory could be misleading me."

"Eh, maybe," Zack shrugged, deciding to let the subject go for now.

Cissnei had her turn to shrug here, "Well, anyways, its getting late and we know AVALANCHE will have an early start tomorrow." Her amber eyes narrowed, "I want to understand where Tifa got this information _first _before we try heading to Sir's location- and I know he's going to need to know about how many other people know about Zack. If someone _other_ than Aerith and Tifa are within this circle now, it could mean trouble." She folded her arms, "-But Sir will be able to help us prepare for it accordingly."

"Gotcha," Zack nodded. "I'll write down the coordinates and shit."

"Do that," Cissnei said, taking out a little note-pad from her tux and handing it to him. "-And delete the call log too. Send Hendel a text telling him your number may change."

The ex-SOLDIER nodded, and then went to to do just that.

Cissnei then bent over and rummaged through her bags, finding her much-preferred casual night-gown emblazoned with the words "Sleep, Coffee, Sparkle, and Repeat". She threw it over her arm and turned towards the bathroom; but then she stopped to say over her shoulder, "...Get some sleep, Zack. Minerva knows _you _need it more than ever."

"Not until I get a shower," he bemoaned. "I feel grody enough as it is!"

Cissnei smirked, "Alright. Shower first, then bed. We got enough to do tomorrow."

"Alrighty!"

Cissnei went in to change; and was promptly out within a minute. She had a toothbrush in hand, but her eyes were on Vincent. "You going to bed too? Or are you just going to wander around the town all night, like usual?"

Vincent inclined his head at the window, a little scoff his following reply.

Cissnei shrugged at that, "...Suit yourself. That last bed is all yours if you change your mind."

She ducked back into the bathroom, all the while Zack went to find his own bed-wear. Vincent was seen slipping out the window like a thief in the night; shutting it closed and cloaking as he went. Zack watched him seamlessly melt into the shadows, not at all understanding the reasoning for it.

"Man he's weird," he off-handedly commented.

"So are you," Cissnei threw at him after stopping to spit out a mouthful of tooth-paste. She then said around the foamy remains, "You're supposed to be sicker than a damn dog and you _still _have the strength to stop a tow-truck, if you so wanted."

"Eh, I'm a freaking tanky, macho, sexy, lean, mean _mofo_. What can you do?" Zack blithely returned with a smug inflection. He pulled out his sweat pants and his navy tee-shirt, throwing it over his bed and sitting to wait until Cissnei was done. He felt his frown return suddenly, "-Although, Vincent's personality is still a little weird to me. Its a shame he doesn't try to stick around to talk to us some more."

Zack's eyes stayed on the window, all the while waiting until Cissnei got done with her teeth before returning his attention to her. He watched as she clambered onto her respective bed, drawing up her legs and crossing them. Her hands fell into her lap, her honeyed mocha pools gently a lit by their meager lamp.

"I don't really blame him," She amicably reciprocated. "Any social contact he's ever had way back when usually back-fired in some kind of horrible way; his love-life aside. Think about it: His father died in a accidental lab experiment... and he never felt inclined to make any friends outside his job as a Turk." Her expression took on a more somber air, "-And I can't say I don't understand the latter feeling. For a while, I felt like making friends on the job was just another way to get hurt. A lot of the time, a Turk's job is going to clash against those who work outside of their specific department, or outside of Shinra in general. Relationships are a double-edged sword for us."

The dim lighting of their one, solitary bed-side lamp created the abstract illusion of her eyes being set more deeply into their sockets. Her lips thinned considerably, "...A lot of the time, friendships end quite _violently _for the Turks. You saw what happened after you escaped from Nibelheim-" Her head hung more, "...I really thought I had to fight you... I'm just glad it really didn't have to come to that."

Zack felt something tight within his guts turn cold and leaden; a sickly knot that refused to yield. His face blanked out, jaw clenching as he remembered that spine-freezing moment when he first reunited with Cissnei. He even brandished the Buster sword at her- something he never imagined himself doing underneath _any _given circumstances. His eyes fell to the floor, tersely clenching his jaw as the memory forcibly reminded him of a time where he would've willingly hurt one friend just to protect another- A shameful notion that still bothered him to this day, almost an entire year later.

_Even though Cissnei may have raised her weapon first, she was also the first to let me go, _he recalled. _She even lied to Tseng about finding me for that first little while; having likely believed Tseng would've followed through on his orders to have me and Cloud hauled in._

_...But now, I can't help wondering..._

"Friends are a luxury to us," Cissnei continued to inform him, oblivious to his inner doubts about the Turk Director. "-And they're not something we're allowed to keep. Tseng has had to leave quite a few companions out to dry as it is; and its something he's definitely not proud off." She sighed, "His personality within itself reflects that."

"...Then why save _me_?" Zack couldn't help asking, his mellowed timbre lowered.

Cissnei's expression lightened marginally, although her shrug did nothing but minutely unsettle Zack. "...Who knows? I guess he thinks you're just _special _or something. Minerva knows you're a good influence on him," she coyly replied, although there was no mirth to her smirk. Her expression suddenly darkened next, all without warning. She had her turn to focus her gaze to the space between them.

"...If you hadn't survived your battle in the wastes," she said in the smallest voice ever. "-Tseng probably would've went on as always; being as cold-blooded and 'logical' as he _needed_ to be- Its the only way he knows." She glanced off to the side, "-He'd probably would've continued to delude himself with the idea that following the president's dream of finding the Promised land is a still a proper way forward. He only ever saw sense in it being a feverish pipe-dream because of something _you _said to him at some point- whatever and whenever that was."

"I don't remember ever saying anything special," Zack scratched his head, cocking it in the process. "All I said was that its an unrealistic kiddy fairy tale that shouldn't drive the back-bone of a business. And that's literally JUST before he sent me on this whole mission."

The Turk merely shrugged at that, equally at a loss. "I dunno. You sure it wasn't something you could've said to him _before_ your Nibelheim deployment? Five or so years back?" She tried.

"Not that I recall," Zack reciprocated.

She hummed, her eyes slightly narrowed as she reflected on Tseng's current behavior. "...Well, I suppose there's still one thing we can safely say," She amicably added on after an indecisive minute.

The other tilted his head again, hands resting in his lap.

"Sometimes," she began. "-Being brave enough to verbally put voice to the very thing we all refuse to acknowledge is more than enough. In your head, finding a place even the Ancients themselves sought for seems to be a good idea- as its something even Lucrecia and the great Dr. Gast deemed a worthy pursuit." Her tone turned bitter briefly, "-Sephiroth was conceived under that very 'romantic' notion; and ironically enough even consequently thought _himself _that Gast's pursuits were note-worthy later on in his life. So many people believed in this beautiful idea of finding the Promised Land."

She frowned at that, and then ticked off, "-So, that makes the late president, the current one, Tseng, Gast, Lucrecia, Sephiroth, and many others with usually like minds that I can't name off the top of my head that believe it. Heck, even _Vincent_ somewhat believed in it at some fleeting point. Remember?"

"Yeah, but he hadn't been entirely sold about the idea either," Zack reminded her.

She gestured at this, "Well, maybe that's true and all, but it still served as a sufficient enough reason to keep Vincent from stopping Lucrecia from initiating the project. And by then, the damage had already been irrevocably done." She cocked her head at him, her expression an affectionate gentleness that Zack saw but _rarely_. "But you though-" she went on to say. "You're probably the first and _only _person that, for all his talk of dreams, has actually contradicted the idea of finding the Promised Land- even though you were dating an actual _Ancient _for crying out loud! I still find that ironically humorous."

She laughed there, the sound small but genuine.

"...Yunno," she went on to say. "-You're a person whose child-like dream is to become a hero- a dream that's usually dismissed as an unrealistic, kiddy fantasy within itself. You're someone whose been described to possess a certain naivete that many of your superiors figured a weakness. But even then, you're _still _grounded enough to see that finding the Promised Land isn't a realistic notion."

Cissnei shook her head, smiling at Zack all the while. Its almost as if she was mutely thanking him somehow; although Zack didn't know where he got that idea. To say the least, the man still couldn't help feeling a little bashful at this.

She went on, "-Tseng probably saw some sense in your words then; whenever that was. It probably helped change the way he thinks, for all we know... or maybe its something else we just don't see." She inclined her head at him, "Maybe its your honest, loyal demeanor he's drawn too. We know you won't leave a friend hanging; even if they're a dead weight to you, or if they're someone whose hurt you in some way. You've literally proven your earnest personality time and time again- and I think its that trait in particular is something Tseng desperately wanted to latch onto: Especially after all the times he's had to forsake a friendship."

Cissnei suddenly hugged herself; a gesture Zack only saw a selective few times before. "His job makes it hard for him to keep anyone important or significant in his life, and having someone who would be inevitably hurt by him, but would understand why he does it and would still remain his friend anyway, is something worth-while to him. Because at the end of the day, even if we lose that beautiful dream of finding the Promised Land, the one thing we can tangibly reach for is that one-in-a-million friend. Right?"

Zack snorted, finding all this colored talk suddenly a little silly. He didn't know where it was coming from, nor how they even got onto the subject. All he knew was that it felt like Cissnei was giving him more credit than he deserved. But he nonetheless reciprocated in a genteel timbre, "Well, that's the only thing that matters then, right? I know its a bit cheesy, but if you can't reach your dreams, you can at least reach for your friends. They're something you can actually _touch_. Yunno?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "That sounds about right."

Zack swiped a confident hand under his nose, smiling all the while.

Cissnei meanwhile went on. "-You know, having said all that, it still makes me wonder," she pensively offered. "-Maybe Tseng only needed someone as strong as you and Cloud to help him do his job properly-? Although, I don't think its _that_..." She cringed, "Not that I actually see him using _you _of all people as some kind of tool."

Zack eyed her, choosing to remain silent at this.

"-While he isn't always above the idea of using people," she reluctantly admitted. "He isn't going to resort to it unless its an absolute _**last **_resort. I trust in Tseng, even though his motives confuses the rest of us, at the best of times." Her expression lightened, "The decisions he makes would challenge the constitution of any lesser man and wear them down to the nub. Too many times in our history, Turks died in their uniforms after asking too many questions or directly disobeying immoral orders-"

Cissnei's little smile from before was now long gone now, "-And Vincent is an outstanding example of both of those exact cases. So, even if we do say 'no' to a particularly horrifying mission, some of us are burdened with the weight of knowing that even _this _refusal- positive or negative- is ruining someone else's life in some way, shape or form. Another innocent person would be sent out in our stead to carry out what's essentially _our _jobs. Our singular decisions, affecting our perception of the mission... A taboo that would inevitably affect our judgement at the most critical moment."

She held out her hands, cupping them together as if she can physically hold out her words, "-Tseng has the resolve to make the decisions we can't; and that's why he made it to Director. Even Rufus sees it- Tseng's capable of being ruthlessly efficient; but he isn't always like this because knowing_ you_ just may be a balm for him." Her expression became ponderous, "Recently, Tseng only does _just _enough to keep the Turks out of direct scrutiny; to protect us from not only Shinra, but our own feelings. Sometimes, its seems much easier to simply follow orders rather than think to do it for ourselves."

Zack shook his head, his expression suddenly militant. His tone bordered scornful, but he kept it out of his voice well enough, "So, you'd rather sacrifice your free will so don't have to feel guilty about the weight of your actions? That actually sounds almost completely _irresponsible _to me."

Cissnei straightened her posture and matched his gaze with one of her own, "-While I can't speak for the others, I _know _I'm not sacrificing _anything _about myself- not my free will, not my decisions, nothing of the sort. I've always been willing to break the occasional rule, as _**you **_should already know."

The man ducked his head submissively, but his jaw remained clenched.

Her shoulders slumped next, her next sentence breathed as if it were some secret, slipped thought, "...Although, I still can't deny that Tseng taking the hot-seat whenever it comes to the big questions and decisions is a somewhat reassuring thought. If we all had to make our own decisions, we'd be arguing so much, we'd _never _get anything done. Worse yet, some of us don't always have the same mental fortitude to endure the repercussions of our actions."

_Like Sector Seven, _Zack thought. _I wonder which one of 'em had to push the button for that?_

The ex-SOLDIER wanted to comment at that, but decided to keep his mouth shut as he absorbed this. He did eventually duck his head still further, unable to keep this one nagging question from escaping him, "...I still don't get why he'd want to bother with _me _though, even after all that. Its not like we ever really hung out socially before..."

"Maybe not," Cissnei shrugged. "But even _Tseng _sees how genuine you are. Its a rare trait to have- and one he apparently values more-so than even _we _thought. He saw fit to risk our lives, as well as his own to save you when the opportunity arose; something he's never done for anyone else- let alone a laboratory sample deemed dangerous." She shook her head at these words, looking for all intents and purposes like she wanted to take them back. "Still, you can't deny that some proof of his desire to remain in your good graces may exist in some way; contrary to what you think. For all we know, this time around his friendship with you is something he values far more than being a proper Turk; despite it not stopping him before."

Zack worked his jaw and looked away, somewhat unable to completely digest these words.

"Anyways, I digress. I think the point was-" Cissnei leaned back and looked at the ceiling, her face thoughtful. "-Was that Vincent doesn't want to be too close to us out of habit. And maybe what Tseng does is a mixed bag... but I still definitely believe he's only looking out for us. We don't have to understand their reasoning in order to believe their hearts are in the right place- no matter how small and shrunken said heart is. Yunno?"

Zack eventually bobbed his head, not at all disagreeing with the girl's words at least- even though he was having a hard time attaching these words to _Tseng _in particular. "Still kinda sounds a little biased or colored though..." he trailed off, scratching his head dubiously.

"Hm, maybe," she hummed. "But its all I believe, and all that ever mattered to me. The only way we can know for sure is to ask Tseng himself why he decided to save you. That's just my take on it."

The larger individual shuffled, suddenly belatedly realizing that Cissnei had been whole-heartedly opening up to him just now; and he almost entirely dismissed it because it sounded a little 'colored'. So, he gently smiled at this, but he couldn't help wondering about the Turk Director with some amount of continued skepticism. After a minute, his fragile smile withered in marginal degrees as the words came to him.

So he said, "...The funny thing is, I've even asked Tseng those exact questions quite a few times now- both _before _he sent us to Nibelheim and _after_. He never really directly told me why he saved me, other than the whole 'cuz we're friends' answer."

Cissnei wrinkled her nose again, "...And you still don't believe it?"

"I dunno what to believe," Zack huffed. His voice became somewhat bitter as he went on, "-Cuz I know Tseng's kept information from me more than just a handful of times. Like the part when he said the _Turks _were the reason why Sector Seven was dropped."

"I thought you already knew that?" Cissnei wondered aloud, as if it was the most obvious thing.

When Zack didn't reply to this, she sighed and planted her hands on her knees. She shook her head, "You should already know that for missions like this, its not like we can say no-"

The man squared his shoulders, but his voice took on a more distressed note, "-And its not like you had to go through with that _neither_! Weren't you just telling me that he doesn't always follow _every _order he's ever given? He only does _just enough _to get by?"

"He does enough to keep us out of trouble, true," Cissnei stated rather blandly. "-But if we refused this, its not like it would've made any difference. The president would've sent someone from SOLDIER had Tseng refused. In fact, even if we _did _refuse something this sensitive, the president would've had us _personally_ investigated." Her topaz stare softened here, "And frankly, we have a little more to lose this time around; besides our entire branch."

Zack shook his head and looked off to the side, wondering if she was actually referring to _himself _in that very last sentence. If that were the case, then that would mean the Turks _couldn't _refuse the most grizzly of orders; if its to keep the President from discovering Zack lying bed-ridden in their very own building.

_But then... _He realized. -_Tseng didn't tell me that because... he didn't want me to feel like the sole reason he destroyed so many lives. He didn't want Shinra to search their building, and find me hiding beneath their very nose. He didn't want to admit that he'd willingly sacrificed fifty thousand people... __**for me**__._

_...He values __**me**__, over that many others._

_...And he's willing to destroy so many more lives, just for so few... for me, and the other Turks. He essentially committed a genocide of an entire section of the city, for us._

_**For all of us.**_

Zack felt bile surge in his throat; although it wasn't a sensation born quite out of pure disgust. Because to be frank, he'd willingly sacrificed what could've been a few hundred innocent souls just to glimpse Aerith again- mowing down an entire army of normal people for the well-being of Cloud. And if push came to shove, he was pretty sure he'd wouldn't want to give up Cloud and Aerith for fifty thousand people that he didn't know.

Not that he'd ever had the courage to make that call, admittedly.

_But... why do we have to be killers just to be friends anyway? Now I can't help wondering... _He continued to ponder. _While Freedom's price is steep, what's worth the weight of camaraderie anyway? Why does it have to involve so much __**more **__pain?_

Zack jerked in place when his clothes suddenly decided to slip from his bed to the floor; as if to physically draw him from that murky funk of his. Upon remembrance of his desperate need for a shower, he scooped them back up, somewhat glad of the distraction. If he sat here long enough and considered the weight of not only the Turks' sins, but his _own _for any longer, he wasn't sure he'd even have the gumption to even get up in the morning anymore.

He got to his feet and leveled Cissnei his most sincere gaze. And then he said just between them, "Yunno... I'd like to believe in all of that... Every last bit."

"...Me too," she whispered back, her tone lowered enough so that it sounded like she was whispering a great and damning secret.

Zack spared the girl his most earnest and charming smile; although the gesture was thin and fragile. He eyes fell back to his feet; his mind a bubbling quagmire that just couldn't quite settle. His frown lingered as he lumbered towards their shared bathroom, stopping just shy of the door before turning to Cissnei again.

"...Heya, Sis?"

"Hm?"

His smile returned full force this time, his chest suddenly several times looser, "For what its worth, even if Tseng or you or _whoever _else thinks they're not my friend, I'm still _theirs_\- And I just want you to know that its especially true for _you_. Thanks for being straight with me- it goes a LOT further than you know."

The girl suddenly flushed several shades, and then abjectly turned away to hide it. Cissnei was usually great at poker masks; only ever bested by Tseng or Vincent. However, it seemed Zack's words were plenty strong enough to get through somewhere- and its something that assured Zack of _exactly _of what he needed to be assured in-turn.

"I-I know that," she sputtered, waving him off. "-And I know they know it too. But I just wanted _you _to know that its not as one-sided as you may think."

Zack bumped his shoulders, "Welp, I guess I know that _now._"

"Okay, good," she dismissively waved again, apparently too embarrassed to keep looking at him; something he couldn't help his confident grin over. "-Go take your shower. I can smell you from here."

"Want me to give you a thank-you hug first?" Zack gleefully offered; suddenly feeling a douchey, shit-eating grin tear its way across his face. He needed a break from all this doom and gloom, and making Cissnei miserably happy was just the only important and right way to do it.

Cissnei immediately jolted and bumped against the head-board of her bed, shaking her head furiously. "Oh _no_... No no no. You wouldn't dare-"

"C'mere and gimme a hug!" He boisterously threw out his arms, carelessly throwing his night clothes onto the floor. "I'm wide open!"

"Zack no-"

"Zack yes!"

"Zack _NOOO-_"

"Zack YES!" He ebulliently shouted as he leapt to her bed, eager to forget his troubles.

_If for the moment._

Cissnei, with the adept swiftness of frantic, flightless bird trying to figure out how to fly in a free fall launched herself from the mattress just as Zack jumped onto it. She bolted to the other side of the room, trying to put as much distance between she and the asshole hugger as she could. "OhmygodZack _don't-_" she hissed, her nose wrinkling cutely as usual. "Get off my damn bed! I don't want to be smelling your freaking arm-pit sweat on my sheets all night!"

"Aw c'mon Sis!" Zack deliberately rolled across the mattress and kicked his legs up into the air, teasingly waggling them to and fro while throwing her his most cheesiest and sloppiest grin ever. "You're hurtin' my feelings here! Where's the love we were just sharing?"

"You mean the moment you just kinda ruined?" She scoffed. "Pretty much long gone by now."

"Then gimme a hug and we'll call it even!"

"Hard pass," She huffed. "And if you even _try _to hug me again, then I'll _definitely _follow up on those earlier threats I made about castrating you and sending those bits of you back to your parents."

"Jeez. I think you've talked about my balls more times than my own girl-friend," Zack winced.

"First of all... I cannot envision- for the life of me- _Aerith _of all people making any sort of lewd commentary on a man's general anatomy _whatsoever_. Secondly, it almost sounds like _you _have some kind of problem with your love-life," She jabbed at him.

"Awww. But that's because I have so much love to give and not enough people to share it with! You wanna come over here and say that to my face while giving me the biggest hug _ever_?"

"I'll tell Aerith you're cheating on her," she defensively tried.

"No you won't," he deliberately added on with a devilish smirk. He was now _thoroughly _their little chasing game now- as giving this girl the biggest hug he could possibly ever give her to compensate for all the ones she missed throughout her life was a quest worth pursuing. He knew she liked to keep a barrier between she and everyone else- but its something he's resolved to tear down ever since their little talk in Midgar.

And there was no way in Hell he was ever going to accept a 'no' from her, ever again.

"-You're just too embarrassed to get a hug from yours truly!" he cackled. "C'mon sis. There's nothing wrong with hugs between buds!"

"Nope nope _nope_. I'm good over here, thanks," she promptly denied.

"What makes you think this was an option?" He deliberately goaded.

"And just what makes you think you'd be able to catch me?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Challenge accepted," Zack reciprocated, borrowing her words from their time in Nibelheim.

He'd never been known to give up, no matter what the adversity. He only pressed his luck so far; but he did eventually get that hug. Cissnei made theatrical gagging comments and muttered something about his rank body odor repeatedly, but she didn't try to drop-kick him like she so dearly wanted. In all honesty, the hug _was _nice; and she couldn't deny that this loving, blithering idiot in front of her was a fantastic hugger-

Even if he did stink like he just took a dunk in a ginormous, radioactive vat of mako-charged arm-pit sweat.

* * *

~777~

The shiver that rippled through his body from spine to heel wasn't something he could solely attribute to the perpetual cold up here; even though its admittedly so spitefully frigid here that it makes you wonder if you committed some sort of unwholesome crime in a previous life and you're still paying for it.

And funnily enough, Reeve still couldn't help thinking that this may indeed hold true for his _current _life; seeing what he's allowed himself to be a part of. It didn't matter if he didn't have any direct involvement in their more recent crimes; for as far as he's concerned, his silence and inability to do anything to stand openly against Shinra might as well be about as helpful as him actually consenting to playing a part in dropping Sector Seven.

The cold was all too bitter here, and it had a deeply-seated effect that clung perpetually to your body if it was unaccustomed to the bitter temperatures; sinking right into the very marrow of your bones. For Reeve, it wasn't something he really wanted to be exposed to any longer than necessary- although its not to say it'll discourage him from touring the town the next day; when the sun was at its peak of course.

On an unrelated note, Reeve had considered bringing his aging mother here on vacation sometimes; but he was kind of relieved that it had never come to pass. The winds that whipped around the infamous Icycle Lodge and the town surrounding it would rip right into her brittle bones. More often than not, his mother was content on maintaining her vegetable garden anyways; and sometimes calling her son to see if he'd considered getting married yet- much to the man's bemused and somewhat embarrassed chagrin.

Reeve coughed into a woolen-clad fist, his mounting nervousness nipping right at his heels all the while. He carefully meandered (or more or less wadded) down the snowy street; the newly-fallen layers already piling up to his knees in some places. He watched the children briskly scamper about in the weather they've known all their lives; comfortably playing in areas that had been carefully cleared by the adults. However, it was very late now; and most were heading back into their toasty homes to eat dinner and warm up with the rest of the family.

It was a cozy scenery befitting a holiday card- a humbled beauty that he couldn't help wishing he could see in Midgar sometimes. However, Midgar rested in a temperate zone; and in the middle of vastly desolate wasteland that stayed consistently drab year-round. If any real cold had to happen _anywhere _around Midgar; it would be in the Sector Four ice rink.

As it was, Reeve's business here was to be conducted where there'd be no prying Shinra eyes and ears watching him; with no guards, drones, or Cait Sith escorting him as well. He had to come _completely_ alone, and at a time where it seemed the weather would be at its most treacherously, sinfully brisk. And while Reeve loved the idea of cold weather after having lived in Midgar for so long, he just wasn't built for it.

The Head of Urban Development stopped before the one and only Icycle Inn itself, his hand tightening upon the handle of his briefcase. He had another pack thrown over his shoulder too; carrying with him enough warm clothes and their spares to make most people take pause. Even though he'd only planned to be here a night or two, he wanted to have the option of bringing extra layers.

This little excursion was meant to be an impromptu visit to an injured relative and on his mother's side and the doctor treating them; an aunt who supposedly went on her routine hike just outside town but got into an accident when a bear attacked her. Now this wasn't an uncommon occurrence; and its a sufficient enough reason for Reeve to warrant a request of leave from work that day.

In truth though, he really _did _have a relative living somewhere around here; but they weren't the explorer type, nor were they very close. They hadn't been made aware of Reeve's visit neither; as they're not particularly someone who liked nor cared about Reeve's current career choice. However, Shinra thankfully didn't care to look too carefully into this detail; and its something that Reeve's contact here had taken full advantage of. Said contact had arranged a supposed meeting with his aunt's 'doctor' to discuss what happened, as well as go see said relative the next day. The contact had also preemptively booked Reeve a room ahead of time- All Reeve had to do was give his name at the front desk.

For the millionth time that day, Reeve heaved yet another sigh that misted thickly out in front of him. He proceeded inside; wondering what in Minerva's good name would his contact be thinking in dragging him so far north for anyhow. Hadn't the military-grade encrypted video communicator been enough? Why would he would want Reeve to come all the way here if its just to _talk_? What in Gaia's name could be so important that it would warrant a few hundred miles worth of travel?

Reeve's stiffened fingers tightened their hold on the brief-case in hand; while shifting the weight of the pack over his shoulder in mild unease. He stopped before the desk, and then dipped his head respectfully at the receptionist, "Reeve Tuesti. I'm checking in on the account of a pre-booked room? The reservation was made by a man named Dr. Tian Li Kheng?"

The lady was clad in layers; despite the interior of the building being warmly secured. She looked up at him and smiled politely enough; even though she could tell he was Shinra. Having said that, her smile was as brittle as a thinning ice sheet; her gaze detached. Not for the first time, Reeve wished for a sudden change in careers as he felt her scrutiny bore into him.

"Of course," she said with some minor inflection of indifference. "Mr. Kheng has been expecting you. Your room is on the second floor; room 202. Would you like someone to take your things up for you?"

"No need, but its very much appreciated ma'am," Reeve smiled as kindly as he could, taking the key from her in the process. "All I'll be asking for is room service."

"Noted sir. I'll have someone sent up in about an hour, if you'd like."

"Please."

Reeve passed her his most earnest, winning smile he could; not wishing to make the woman anymore uncomfortable than she already is. However, he could see it had no outward effect; and he couldn't help his following sigh once he cleared her line of sight. For this reason, he had considered quitting Shinra; but he wasn't sure he'd be able to 'retire' the conventional way. Not without involving his poor mother in the process.

He took his time in climbing the stairs; feeling the weight of his trip drag heavily at his eye-lids. Frankly, he only wanted to warm up and go to bed; but some decent food and a mug of that infamous hot Icycle Lodge Cocoa sounded delightful. And after what felt like an eternity, he made it to his room and unlocked the door; fumbling with the key somewhat due to his chilly, shaking hands.

After dropping his bags at the foot of his bed, Reeve checked around for any bugs; of both the literal and artificial kind. He knew the Icycle Inn wouldn't have any real bed-bugs, but it didn't hurt to look. He also found no signs of listening devices neither, and couldn't help his belated breath of relief at that. He finally sat down and checked his phone in a vaguely disinterested daze; his exhaustion creeping steadily into place after all the headaches and scares of today- especially after the dreadful Intel he received from Cait Sith.

_Its almost nine-thirty_, he distractedly said to himself. _Yet it feels so much later than that... Mr. 'Kheng' should've known I made it here within the first minutes of my arrival, knowing him._

Reeve threw back his head and closed his eyes; unable to tear his mind away from the latest portent he got from the mechanical feline:

The cat said that AVALANCHE had succeeded in carrying out a part of their more recent, more _extreme _approach to combating Shinra; killing Palmer and all of his assigned guards in the process. And that wasn't all; even _Rufus_ had reported that his own personal guard were besieged by a cloaked gunsmith he couldn't identify. Rufus was injured in the following skirmish; but it was a superficial wound he'll recover from within days.

The weird part of this whole thing? Well, its the fact that even Rufus doesn't think the person who personally attacked him was someone from AVALANCHE's party. The only proof to back this statement though was the formation of the bullet holes in the bodies; a triangular formation that's usually distinguishable by a weapon AVALANCHE hasn't been known to posses- a three barrel pistol that isn't a common weapon to come across anymore, nor is it something the Midgar cell of AVALANCHE would even employ. While they've, yes, used a plethora of weapons that rose some brows; but nothing like this tri-barrel gun had ever been seen or used by them or their associates.

So who in the Hell attacked Rufus anyways? And was this mysterious gunslinger a member of AVALANCHE? How come he was invisible? Was it Cloaking materia like the Turks were known to use, and how did he ever get a hold of it? Why was he at the sight of crime just as the president came? Was it really just to wound him? Why didn't they just out-right _kill _him? Was he somehow covering AVALANCHE's tracks by killing all the witnesses to the debacle in Cid's back-yard?

Frustratingly enough, there really _was _no way of knowing what truly happened in the back-yard without any surviving eye-witnesses. The mess that had been discovered back there however was nothing short of grizzly; and something that made Reeve sick with indigestion:

A smattering of offal, blood-saturated mud, and the rag-doll twisted forms of bodies that were thrown unceremoniously by the _Tiny Bronco_'s wild take-off greeted the investigators; the increasingly rank smell of excreted fluids of varying kinds rumored to make those that had been on sight throw up whatever they've ate that day. Cid's house and shed showed signs of being ransacked; but not for anything in particular except for some tools and clothes; among whatever other unknown provisions were likely deemed fit for travel use- probably the courtesy of AVALANCHE themselves.

On another note, Reeve knew why his precious S.I.T.H hot-wired the plane; seeing as it meant that Cloud's team could get an apt diversion so they wouldn't have needed to kill anymore of the guards than necessary. However, Reeve couldn't help wondering if it complicated the situation more than it helped. And it appeared to have been a fruitless endeavor; seeing as all of the guards that came with Rufus and Palmer died anyways.

_What is this world coming too? _Reeve couldn't help wondering. _Will AVALANCHE come after all of us in-turn? Will they even be able to? Will I make that hit-list as well? While I can't help sympathizing with their respective troubles after all we've done to them, _he internally reasoned. _Now I can't help thinking they're only going to do more harm than good._

_Still..._

Reeve jerked when his door was rapped upon; having not noticed that he was steadily nodding off while he'd been in that reflective daze. He checked his phone again and noticed that the time had slipped to ten on the dot; the punctual appearance of his contact not at all unexpected. He groaned as he got to his feet, neatly straightening his clothes while he made it to the door.

"Yes yes. I'm coming," he said when the knock came again.

He blinked off his fatigue and primly fixed his hair; not at all tolerant of the idea of presenting himself in such a disheveled state. While Reeve was the kind individual that pretty much stuck out from the other Shinra executives, you couldn't deny that his worst vice was his vanity and expensive tastes- not that he ever let that rule his motivation for having stayed in Shinra for so long.

He peeped through the hole to be sure that the person he was expecting was there; but what he found instead wasn't someone who matched his contact's usually suave appearance and description. It was too hard to see anything clearly through the little peep-hole, but Reeve could've swore the man standing on the other side of the door was of purely Wutain ascent. His contact told him to expect this though; and so thusly did Reeve reluctantly open his door. He hid his creeping apprehension, smiling as genially as he could.

"Ah. Evening my good man," he tried formally while fighting the urge to immediately slam the door back shut. Reeve couldn't help darting his eyes down either side of the hallway; wondering if anyone was watching them. "I don't suppose you're ah... You're Dr. Kheng, right? The one who treated my dear aunt?"

He knew some Wutain warriors who may not have entirely forgotten the war would take the immediate advantage of killing an unarmed man of Reeve's standing; but it didn't mean that _this _one in particular would indulge the frightening hypothetical.

In fact, this person in front of him was very lean and of a similar build to Reeve; standing with a properly composed demeanor interwoven into his posture and neutral expression. He dipped his head respectfully; his short brunette hair bordering on black stopping just at his neck. His thin lips curled minutely, but not so menacingly as Reeve had half-expected. He was also still wearing his heavy coat with the melted remains of new-fallen snow; having likely come from another Inn or hotel nearby. In hind-sight, it probably made more sense that this man wasn't staying in the same building as Reeve- if to help evade detection.

"I am," said the other in response to Reeve's previous question, nutty brown eyes shrewd. "I'm hoping you're finding the room to your liking?"

Reeve nodded, hoping that the individual in front of him wasn't secretly planning on murdering him in his room tonight. However, his contact had firmly instructed him that he'd let this Tian Li Kheng in; although he'd been convinced that the name was merely his contact's own cover name and _not an entirely different person as a whole_.

A little baffled by this development, Reeve nonetheless mustered his scattered composure and gesticulated to his room, "Would you like to come in? I'm expecting room service. I'd like to talk about my aunt's condition and how she's doing-"

"If you don't mind?" The man somewhat clipped; and with what Reeve could've swore was a bead of sweat building at the base of his neck.

Certainly thrown off by the troubling sight of sweat on a man who should still essentially be about as cold as Reeve was, the latter still couldn't help wondering if this Tian had a weapon stashed somewhere on his person. Reeve shut the door, feeling his gut churn uneasily as he locked it and turned to Mr. Kheng-

Only to watch in sickeningly horrifying fascination as Mr. Tian's face began to _fizzle away _like mist in the morning sun; his brown hair lengthening and his complexion shifting a couple of slight pigments. Hurriedly, he tossed off his heavy coat to the floor and buckled; revealing the trademark tux beneath it. His almond-shaped eyes lost some of their shape; the typical brown turning into steeled obsidian trademark of a certain Turk in particular.

Tseng himself was now leaning against the table with all the weighted exhaustion of a man who just ran a full marathon without a single drop of water to sate him; panting and heaving like he was losing control over his own breathing. The Turk Director drunkenly tilted to and fro upon his footing; and then slipped into Reeve's chair with all the ceremony of a dying man whose bleed out his last bit of life. With shaking hands he clumsily slipped off his mittens and slipped a hand to his forehead; pinching the region beneath his tilak.

"Need to... improve that," he mouthed to himself in between gasps.

Reeve could only blink, wondering what in the flaming hells he just _saw_. He stood flabbergasted for the better part of an entire minute before he found himself again, folding his arms and feeling his jaw slip open a few contemplative times. He knew Turks were too good at covert work, but this was putting it to a whole other level.

Eventually, Tseng looked up at him; smirking somewhat as he absorbed the sight of Reeve's slack-jawed expression. "Don't tell Scarlet," he jokingly began. "She doesn't need any more magic rocks to fuel her secret fetish."

This random ice breaker immediately loosened something within Reeve; leaving the man laughing deeply from the belly-up. He couldn't help it; of all the ways his dreary day could've ended, who knew this crude attempt at a joke Tseng himself isn't known for making would be the highlight of today? Tseng chuckled along with him, although he didn't say anything else for longest minute.

"If you don't mind my asking," Reeve decided to inquire, his composure setting back in. "But uh... how _did _you do that? Some new materia, I presume?"

Tseng lifted his right arm and willed the orb into being; a very plain looking magic materia that could be mistaken for any other coming to view. "Yes. Its called Shape shift," he huffed, his following words clipped and breathless. "But it works more like 'face-lift', if you get my drift. Its experimental, and it doesn't work on the whole body. Its effect stays in a localized area from the neck up- and it drains far more energy than I admittedly like for an area so _small_." He shook his head, "Its a little frustrating to be honest."

"...Huh. How come I haven't heard of this new spell anyways?" Reeve asked as Tseng put the materia away.

"We don't need people as trigger-happy as Heidegger and Scarlet getting a hold of something so valuable," Tseng replied rather stiffly; his earlier humor passing. "Moreover, its not like we can make a lot of these; I literally only have two _working_ ones- with the one I'm holding being a more recent make. The rest aren't stable, and the third is being tested as we speak. And after its done with the testing phase, I don't think I'll have anymore of these infernal things made. They're simply too finicky and volatile in nature."

"Ah. Of course," Reeve nodded, although he did find this development rather disturbing.

He didn't know how long Tseng could've been developing secret materia like this; nor who gave him the resources and equipment to even _start_. On the side, materia development wasn't something the Turks were responsible for; as its only something the aforementioned Scarlet spear-heads.

As an added bonus, Reeve hadn't known Tseng has had the power to do this for Minerva knows _how _long- nor if it was even possible to covertly produce new materia right under Shinra and Scarlet's respective noses. The tech needed for a monumental task like this required an entire lab in a remote area and several experienced staff; alongside a metric-shit-ton of power and a source to draw from- not to mention the resources needed to actually supply the mako to make these things. Operating beneath the radar wouldn't be an easy task neither.

This said, it made Reeve somewhat wary and rightfully paranoid of the Turk Director's secrets and the amount of power he could potentially already have- as well as just how far along his influence has spread beyond the unseeing eye... In a way, its more than just a _little _disconcerting.

And the really disturbing part? Well, the fact that Tseng was already comfortably showing him this made Reeve wonder just how confident he was that the latter wouldn't go around telling just _anybody_. Tseng must truly feel confident with his position and level of influence if he's just out-right telling an executive like Reeve about his new toys. What were the odds that Tseng would know how to 'silence' him, should Reeve let something slip?

Not that he would, mind you. Reeve wasn't _that _kind of person.

And maybe that's what Tseng is banking on: That Reeve, who is morally kind enough to help an old lady across the street without asking for any pay in return, was someone Tseng wouldn't have to worry about leaking information. Or rather, Reeve could let something slip to Rufus and the others, but he and Tseng would _jointly _be tried for collaborative treachery; and both men would end up being 'terminated' from their jobs. No matter how you slice it, letting word get out that Tseng has an illicit operation in the works would certainly damn both individuals. And therefore, Tseng can once again confide in the fact that Reeve wouldn't dare tell a soul about what he's up to.

_And he's dragging me into it without so much as a warning._

Reeve had nonetheless decided to go along with it (for now), seeing as its most likely for the reasons he figures were worth supporting; as well as it being officially beyond his willing choice to make. After all, why _else _would Cait Sith have seen one of Tseng's own men- Glaive if he was remembering it right- bother with protecting AVALANCHE at all instead of leaving them to be killed? He understood that saving Aerith took precedence- but _Cloud_?

Not-uh. There was no way in hell Tseng was doing this... whatever it was... for Shinra's sole benefit. And that within itself was enough for him. And as far as Reeve can guess, Tseng was truly working towards either Shinra's downfall, or to benefit his own men in some way; if his suspicious call to talk alone like this wasn't enough of a hint within itself. Plus the efforts he put forth of using Glaive to save Cloud, and the reveal of his materia and theoretical secret lab that even Scarlet isn't aware of on the side. From just a couple sentences, so much had been revealed to him.

Just then, Reeve heard another knock at his door, and then went to answer it while Tseng continued to recuperate. He got his room service; ordered them a couple of drinks and some food, and made sure the lady left without seeing Tseng's face. No one here needed to know that Shinra's supposedly best cheer-leader and lap-dog was conspiring with one of its executive managers.

After moving another chair to a position directly across from Tseng's, Reeve sat with his hot chocolate and beef soup in hand. He set the tray on his lap, smiling complacently at the tuckered Turk before him. "Well then," he began. "Mind telling me what this is all about?"

"Is the door locked?" Tseng asked first; with a hand planted firmly over his fore-head. It was likely he was nursing a headache of some kind.

At Reeve's nod, the slightly younger man huffed with what Reeve figured was tired relief. Tseng took a sip from the coffee he asked for; and then threw back his head as if he just wanted to collapse in his own room for the night.

He sighed, and then he muttered thoughtfully, "Hm. Where to begin...?" He rapped his finger-tips across the handle of his mug, and then leveled Reeve a neutral look. He shrugged lazily, "Well, I suppose its fair to say that you're free to ask me whatever comes to mind- as I'll welcome whatever query you ask. In fact, you can even pick whatever question you want to start with, and I'll be able to answer accordingly. If you don't wish to do so, then I suppose I'll start us off formally."

Reeve raised a brow, taking a small sip of his hot chocolate as he considered this. After spending a brief moment considering everything else he's weighed earlier on, he said in response to this, "...I only want to know what the heck is going on here in general. And while I do have a lot of questions, I wouldn't know where to even _start_."

Tseng nodded understandingly, and then dropped the hand resting on his head to his lap, "Fair enough. Then, I suppose I'll jump right into it."

"If you please," Reeve nodded.

The Turk Director paused to raise a hand over his mouth; seemingly stifling a budding yawn. And then, he began:

"-If I had to be frank, I really don't much agree with some of Rufus' latest motions; let alone whatever the late president deemed as a 'proper' business maneuver," he said. He took another ginger sip of his coffee, his expression flatter than paper, "As it is, even though Rufus hasn't really cared much for his father's decisions and the consequences he's reaped, I don't really see him trying to do anything to 'fix' what he's done... nor do anything that'll much differ from what his father's ways-"

His slate-colored eyes darted to Reeve; as piercingly sharp as a polished, flint-tipped arrow-head. "-I'm afraid that the long and short of it is _this_: He's going to lead us down the same dark and dreary tomorrow as the late president had _while _mowing down whoever else doesn't fall in line with his current 'vision'. And while I understand the term 'trimming the fat' is usually a healthy way to approach business-" He air-quoted this, "-I don't want him to eventually involve _my _brothers and sisters within the Turks; both inside the company and out. I'm afraid he'll do worse to them than the late president and Scarlet _combined_."

_Talk about blunt force trauma. He's not even __**trying **__to sugar-coat the topic, nor dodge around it with crafty word-play as expected, _Reeve suddenly realized with a tiny note of alarm. The elder man blinked, putting down his delightful mug of hot chocolate he couldn't even enjoy. He tented his hands together; seeing that there was much more to be said. So, he remained pensively silent as Tseng went on.

"-More importantly, I know that Rufus' more _forward _way of thinking will eventually doom Aerith-" Tseng added on while tapping his fingers on his mug's handle once again. "-As well as the rest of us with this foolish notion of pursuing the Promised Land. Now that I think about it-" he scoffed rather contemptuously, "-You'd think chasing a child's fairy tale would be below Rufus. And yet, he's decided that its taking first priority over all else despite it being an ambition that his not-so-well-liked father sought after. Who would've thought that the allegory misconception of an ancient legend would be something these two actually _agree _on? Of all things."

Reeve tried to muster the gumption to even smile ironically at the observation, but couldn't really do so. Instead, he merely summarized while remaining strictly to the point, "So basically, you just don't want us expending all our time, energy, and risking lives unnecessarily going after this Promised land- as well as reduce the amount of risk for your underlings and Aerith-"

Tseng nodded, holding out his mug and raising it to his lips again in a minor show of his confirmation. "They're not my underlings, but yes," he casually said. "-I wouldn't think that it much differs from how you feel about this whole debacle and your own position in it. You're the only one who remained rigidly opposed to the whole Sector Seven event, and I _know _some of Cait Sith's latest actions were made to more or less support AVALANCHE instead."

His flat expression shifted; lips curling minutely at the corners, "-And, I certainly know for _sure _that he wouldn't have made these recent decisions without your _direct _input- like say, in the case of Palmer-"

Reeve was suddenly unable to finish his soup. He had a feeling Tseng had been waiting to get to this part of the conversation in particular.

The Turk director's eyes glinted, and there was no mistaking the confident glow within his usually placid demeanor. He then said quite carefully, "...You could've had Cait Sith misdirect Cloud's cell so they wouldn't have gone after him. Its not like Palmer really did do anything directly antagonistic to them- Not like Scarlet and Heidegger in particular-" Tseng shuffled his shoulders and went on tonelessly, "And yet you didn't... despite the danger it'll eventually pose you. You do realize what'll happen if Rufus caught word that Cait Sith was present for Palmer's impromptu execution, and he _didn't do anything to stop them_?"

The Head of Urban Development felt his throat dry, but he kept his expression as unwaveringly straight as possible.

Tseng twitched a brow, but then harrumphed good-naturedly, "-Not that I'll actually report that little detail, mind you. As it is, this only helped me concrete my reasoning for calling you out here. If you can believe it, I've had qualms about telling you about what I'd dragged you all the way North for." He bobbed his shoulders, placing one hand upon his lap while the other went over the arm-rest, "I suppose its fair to say that perhaps my judgement of your character and level of moral dexterity won't challenge anything I have planned. On the contrary, I think it'll _compliment _it."

"A proposition I take it?" Reeve tried as his nerves settled somewhat, but not all the way.

"Not quite," Tseng politely in-toned. "More like, a promise of a mutually beneficial partnership which isn't quite a compromise you can say 'no' to. And just so we're clear- I'm not hanging an ominous threat over your head." He shook his own head there, "-Its actually something we really don't have the luxury to refuse- especially since I don't see either of us living past the next few months without aligning our interests in some way."

Reeve folded his arms, although the gesture wasn't meant to be rude or dismissive. If anything, it demonstrated his reluctant agreement.

"Have you heard of the Septimus Sect?" Tseng coyly tried next, somewhat shifting the topic.

"Can't say that I have," Reeve replied honestly.

"Good. Then we're doing our jobs well enough," Tseng scoffed, seemingly mollified by the elder man's answer. Relieved, even.

"...Does this have anything to do with your secret materia, and that agent of yours that defended Cloud?" Reeve smartly assumed.

Tseng actually out-right _chuckled _at that; his cold gaze several degrees warmer. "Now you're catching on. I suppose it'll save me the time to fully explain it all, thankfully," he almost chortled.

Reeve gesticulated somewhat, "Even so... Now I can't help wondering: If what you're doing really is to undermine the current president's machinations, then why the sudden change of heart? I could've swore you once wholly supported Rufus _and_ the idea of pursuing the Promised Land some time back- no matter its credibility as either myth or otherwise. Now that I think about it-"

His stare intensified, "-You could've used your information about my control over Cait Sith to misdirect Cloud's party against me: You could've reported my inaction to the president and have me veritably lynched within the _hour _if you so choose. It would certainly concrete Rufus' support in you, all the while saving your fellows within the Turks. You could even get Scarlet permanently off your tail-"

His coal-colored brow deepened, "-What I don't understand is what Rufus could've done to shake your support in him when he, just earlier this year, saved the Turks from total termination after the crisis. I just don't understand why you'd turn on him when he technically _saved _you and expanded your branch as of recently." He leaned back, shook his head, and felt his frown increase in fervor, "I just don't see the logic in your own movements in this case. I'd like to think that what you're doing might be an ethical, probable cause I could fully get behind- but I want to see _proof _that you earnestly want this. You know?"

Tseng could only _smile _in reply; and while it had been small before by comparison, now it was an blatant grin that had never been glimpsed before upon his person. He even _laughed _out-right; as if Reeve had said something insanely humorous. A whole half-a-minute passed as he belly-laughed, although it felt much longer to the elder director. If nothing else, the sudden laughter had shocked Reeve into total silence.

When the laughter finally died, Tseng smiled in a self-satisfied way and entwined his fingers. "...Its not what Rufus _has _done," he eventually said after reclaiming some of his trademark composure. "-But a matter of what he _will _do. Although, you're absolutely right: I _could _theoretically use my Intel to have you sacked and put the Turks in a more favorable light." Tseng waved it off, his smile staying in place even as it lessened somewhat, "But I wouldn't be able to quite live with myself if I sacked someone whose of a like mind as one of my closest brethren."

Reeve pursed his lip, but said nothing to this. He didn't know who Tseng was talking about specifically, but he couldn't be more glad of this unknown individual's influence.

Tseng was seen drawing out a small pack of files, and then handed it to Reeve. "Take a look at these," he said. "Hopefully, it'll better sell what I'm offering. Your 'proof', as you so eloquently put it."

Reeve took the unlabeled bundle of manila envelopes and opened them; a little puzzled to see its contents: In alphabetical order, he saw an entire list of Turk names and dossiers; of members who've been marked as K.I.A or M.I.A throughout the years. Consistently, Reeve saw that each individual had a red 'X' over their grim-looking portraits; and they seemed to have no more existing connections like surviving family or anything of the like.

He couldn't help the following gulp; feeling very much like he had a series of bloated, pus-filled pustules lining his throat. "What am I looking at?" he eventually queried.

"Take a look at the last one," was Tseng's cryptic reply.

Reeve flipped right to the last one; finding the likeness of a young man with almost perfectly maroon eyes. An unusual trait for some family lines to have admittedly; but that wasn't the surprising part. As Reeve surveyed the man, he couldn't help finding something almost eerily _familiar _about the man's facial features and generally genial expression. He had short hair that was neatly combed to one side, and a blue tux instead of the typical black ones Turks are known to wear today. And as if to confirm the following observation, Reeve saw that the date of the man's service was something along thirty years ago.

"-'Vincent Valentine'," he read aloud, summarizing the rest of the information as he came across it. He raised a brow at the next part; realizing that the familiarity came from the following portent, "-A.K.A. Tri-Barrel. Son of Dr. _Grimmoire _Valentine. Last recorded mission; bodyguard work at the Nibelheim research cell. Personally requested by Dr. Gast. Currently M.I.A. Presumed dead. Huh." He looked back up at Tseng, "I still don't understand what I'm seeing though- I mean, why _are _you showing me these?"

Tseng leisurely gesticulated at the files in particular, his expression masked. "Vincent's case is special. That file wasn't in the records- which meant someone went to great lengths to erase any signs of his existence." The Turk director's eyes sharpened yet again here, "I had to have someone on the outside of any Shinra affiliation secure me this document; from a defunct base of operations outside Midgar. If I hadn't been told to look for this man specifically, I would've never found him."

Reeve's eyes wandered back to the dossier.

"-While all the other Turks have been reasonably and legitimately recorded to have died doing their jobs, or disappear as a result of some situation going F.U.B.A.R, Vincent is an interesting exception." Tseng's lips twitched again, "In fact, Vincent had a disagreement with Dr. Hojo at the time- and it ended up in a messy and abrupt end to Vincent's career- and a visit to the good doctor's lab."

Reeve felt his eyes flutter shut at the brevity of this; feeling increasingly anxious as Tseng went on, "But the best part about all this? Well, his case isn't really an isolated one neither, nor is it truly special in this way. There had been _many _more individuals within Shinra that had been unceremoniously 'donated' to Hojo and his subordinates throughout the years- and it has continued on until Hojo's recent resignation."

"And I'm guessing all this build-up leads into the reason why you don't support Rufus?" Reeve glanced between Vincent's likeness and back up to the Director.

The Turk nodded. "Yes. As it is, I have reason to doubt that Rufus would, even if I curry his favor, that the Turks would be exempt from any cruel and unusual punishments awaiting those who fail their missions or question his motives- As even a young vice president, he's willingly swept away anyone he believes in his way." Tseng propped a hand to his chin and shook his head tiredly, "Let's face it: There will be a great many more who'll come to Shinra looking to do good; but will no doubt end up either doing the opposite, or going 'missing' should they disagree with the company policies."

Reeve leaned forward somewhat to give the younger man the fullest weight of his attention, sensing that there's more oncoming.

"The thing is," continued the other. "I just don't want to see anymore Turks, nor the future recruits, to be subjugated to these kinds of situations. No matter how you slice it, nobody is allowed the liberty of a peaceful 'retirement'- As you already know." He leaned back in his chair somewhat, "Tell me something: What's the one thing you saw with each portfolio in your hands?"

While Reeve had been scratching his head over Vincent's case, he certainly did pay much closer attention to every individual in-turn now. He carefully went from Vincent's dossier to the one before him; and the one before that. Interestingly, he noted that each Turk had a few things in common:

One of which being that no single individual has ever been allowed to retire; nor had they any family that was particularly close or was simply non-existent. And yet the best part had yet to come; the more he looked on. Reeve felt his skin blanch several more shades as he noted the footnotes attached to the dossiers; all in which were linked to contacts that they've had _outside _Shinra.

_Family, friends, friends of those friends; all who had connections to these missing Turks-_

Reeve felt his mouth dry; despite the heady taste of the mixed, marshmallow and hot chocolate laying heavy upon his throat. Across from him, Tseng raised a brow, hands tented before him.

"..._Gone_," the elder man mouthed, the word the heaviest he's ever uttered. More damning than the sentence of the great Goddess herself. "They're all... all of their _family_. Even they were-?"

Tseng's eyes shut tiredly; slowly. "...Yes. There's a reason why Shinra _prefers _orphans. No family wants them; and no family has to be... leveraged, should any of their 'star' employees start questioning the wrong person. And its not just Turks-" He flicked his head, "But many others within the varying branches: Like SOLDIER or the R&D department itself. Anyone with certain qualifications irrevocably go M.I.A, with no out-standing exceptions. I have so many lists of these kinds of individuals from these branches up to my _neck _by now, the more I looked into it. And the worst part of it-"

The Turk leaned towards Reeve, beetle-black pupils darkened hollows in his skull, "-That many of these people ended up being fed to Hojo; both the 'retired' personnel _**and**_ their loved ones. All fed to the ghastly experiments we deliberately turn a blind eye to. Each of these individuals are being experimented on; and then _disappearing _without a trace. I can't help wondering where they're going, and what the reason for it is."

"Do you think... that Scarlet and Heidegger know-?" Reeve tried.

"More than likely," Tseng shrugged. "But I'm just saying; even if AVALANCHE does go out of their way to start offing every single one of us, I have a feeling our fellow directors will go to extremes never before seen-" His gaze hardened, "-And its an eventuality that even I fear to see."

"The more AVALANCHE presses, the worse it'll get for _everyone_," Reeve huffed. "-Both outside the company, as well as _in_."

"Correct."

"And its not just the employees, but our families as well."

"Also correct."

The Head of Urban Development threw back his head and shut his eyes; wondering about the well-being of his mother anew. He even recalled the Banora Bombing; remembering how even the loved ones of AWOL SOLDIERS hadn't been spared the heel. It didn't matter if the treacherous employee had been disposed off; because even the innocents attached to that person will eventually get hurt too. After all, Shinra always did adore their favorite Code: Zero-Zero-Dark.

Funnily enough, Reeve had known this for quite some time now; not that he's ever readily accepted it nor put verbally-spoken words to it. Its just another one of those grim realities that you're faced off and you're forced to ignore until it actually happens to either you or a familiar.

_And even Tseng has grown tired of the mold Shinra has fitted us all to. _

"I know this may come as of a surprise to you," Tseng went on to say, interrupting the elder man's thoughts. "But I had yet one more file to show you, if you still don't believe my intentions."

Reeve blinked and almost lazily inclined his head; not that he didn't believe that some level of sincerity was present within the other. "...Oh?"

Tseng once again reached into his tux, and then passed Reeve another manila envelope. Unlike the previous one however, this one contained but a single file; and this immediately intrigued Reeve. He opened it, and then stared into the not-so-grim likeness of a young man whose smile pretty much nearly out-shone the glow of his mako eyes. He also possessed a blackened mane of slicked-back spiky hair and an interesting scar on his lower left cheek. Not unlike the Turks however, he also had an 'X' over his profile shot, and even a report detailing his death at a mission to Nibelheim.

"-'Zack Fair'," Reeve read thoughtfully aloud, wondering why he thought the man instantly familiar.

He then scrolled down to the yellow sticky notes stuck to the bottom of the page, and found the names 'Gregory Fair' and 'Miriam Sarah Fair' next; alongside many others of a similar nature. Like the names listed with the Turk files, he presumed all of these people were both family or friends of Zack's- and with a matching 'X' over theirs as a cherry on top.

Reeve heaved at this, almost exasperatedly. "So... what am I looking at, exactly? A SOLDIER profile?"

"Zack Fair and all of his associates," Tseng replied, his eyes suddenly shrouded with a mystifying light. "-Who _all _been promptly terminated in some way or another. Although, Zack's parents weren't directly targeted like his friends." The man leaned toward Reeve again, "As it is, the Gongaga reactor presumably did Shinra's bloody work for them and was rumored to have killed them in the resulting explosion. They sent me to investigate this personally."

"They wanted you to kill _all _of Zack's connections?" Reeve bluntly pressed.

"Yes. Both inside and outside of Shinra," he quite casually elaborated. "-So, if they really _did _survive that catastrophic explosion, I was to make sure the job was thoroughly done."

The elder man shook his head, feeling quite winded by this. "Talk about over-kill," he muttered more to himself than anything.

Tseng smiled suddenly; and it initially curdled Reeve's nerve until his next words, "They're not dead, you know."

"...Come again?"

Tseng inclined his head and smiled even more blithely; if you can imagine it. It had a crookedly clever, self-satisfied air to it that would make any looking on feel inferior to him; an odious display that he didn't bother to conceal. "Zack's parents and familiars aren't dead," Tseng said. "-Nor is the man himself."

Reeve darted glances between the profile picture and the names; and then focused onto Tseng squarely.

Tseng passed him one more file this time; and the very last for this night. This one was yet another Turk dossier; although the main difference was that this picture wasn't crossed out. Reeve eyed it, reading aloud the name "Garm Sturges" and scrutinizing the likeness on the page. The man looked pretty much _nothing _like Zack; but Reeve somehow wouldn't doubt that this was a phony profile.

He looked up again, his words hesitant and meticulous as he slowly offered, "And... the man who saved Cloud was... Zack?"

"Am amazing deduction, but yes," he confirmed.

"But... But this man is-"

"One of the familiars on the sticky foot-notes. Another target I was told to eliminate but didn't," Tseng jerked his head at the file again. "He's one of Zack's friends; a former SOLDIER with no prestige or infamy- unlike Mr. Fair himself. I used his self-imposed idea of being indebted to me to help me make a cover name for Zack. But make no mistake-" Tseng leaned back again, hands folded onto a propped up knee. "-That man Cait Sith saw in Rocket Town was certainly Zack Fair, in the flesh."

Reeve lowered the documents and packed them altogether; eventually passing them back to Tseng as he considered this. "You're making them 'disappear'," he murmured, eyes lowered. "But not in the truest sense... but, why? Why do _this_-?"

"Because Zack Fair is a close friend of mine," Tseng finally and bluntly told him. "-And I'm quite tired of having to pick my job over my associates to get me through the day-to-day. And after having subjugated my own men to the weighted decision of having to press that button in Sector Seven, I'm not prepared to lose anymore good people, nor their sanity, to Shinra's uncompromising policies. Do you not agree?"

Reeve couldn't help it; he just couldn't help wondering about the many targets Shinra had explicitly ordered this man before him to eliminate; and had consequently let go instead. _In fact, I wouldn't it put it past Tseng to have been responsible for letting Cloud and his friends escape the main Shinra building the night the president died_, he couldn't help assuming the more he looked on. _It was said Cloud's cell block had been deliberately unlocked prior to Sephiroth's rampage; but no one saw the footage of that incident to prove it._

_And yet..._

The somewhat imposing, smug, almost all-knowing countenance of the younger man before him was somehow infinitely more intimidating to Reeve; as if Tseng truly was in control of _much _more than he lets on. Yes, he could easily sell Reeve to Rufus and lynch him. Yes, he could easily go back and assure the death of his targets if he so chooses. Yes, should Rufus get any wind of this, its possible Tseng had a number of bail-out plans to fall back on.

And yes, he'd cleverly steered Reeve into this dubious predicament; with no evidence to believe that he had a say in all this. He hadn't allowed Reeve the mere _chance _to say yes or no to their following (involuntary) partnership. But you couldn't deny that Tseng hadn't stated quite a few good points tonight; and having said that, its not like Reeve would've told him 'no' out-right.

But you also have to admit that all of this sneaky behavior was a whole new kind of deceit; one with no clear indicator that betrayed Tseng's willingness to help anyone but himself and his own interests: Even if those interests happen to be a genuine concern for his men. No matter how you slice it, Tseng could very well be helping his people escape this Hell the company had become.

And yet, Reeve still couldn't help feeling there was something else lost amidst the fancy words and seemingly earnest gestures that just may betray Tseng's truest intent- whatever that was. But until he could figure that out, he was _literally _stuck; in every kind of metaphorical sense.

So, it was in that moment Reeve watched in gradual slow-motion as Tseng held out his hand and suspended it between them; his expression a pragmatic mask that did let slip what the elder director hoped was some level of humbled sincerity. Tseng said nothing; his gaze as calculated and guarded and oddly inviting in every way he could possibly make it without breaking his characteristic composure. He kept his arm there, knowing that Reeve would be unable to properly refuse.

And it was in that regard, he was absolutely correct.

Reeve took the other palm; holding it firm as it gave it a slight shake. His lips were tighter than a fish's bung-hole on his face; but still Reeve smiled as confidently as he managed. "Well, alright," he slowly assured. "I suppose I can only give you my cooperation then."

"And I'm glad to have it," Tseng nodded. "I just wish it was underneath better circumstances."

Reeve hoped he wasn't pressing for too much already, but he felt he was allowed at least one good question before they wrapped up tonight's meeting. He carefully cleared his throat and leveled Tseng his most neutral expression; hoping to erase all signs of his unease as best he could. "-If I may ask," he anxiously inquired without having to put in the actual inflection. "Is there a true end-game to all this? I understand 'mutual survival' is good and all, and a truly sound reason within itself... But I can't help wondering-"

Tseng's next smile was now brittle; but perversely genuine enough to be convincing. Reeve couldn't help feeling mixed as he scrutinized the subtle gesture. "An 'end-game'-?" Tseng recited thoughtfully, seemingly tasting the words.

Reeve said nothing to this, waiting almost impatiently for the other to continue. A minute lapsed in this manner; or even more for all they knew. Still Tseng said nothing, his hands tented together and his eyes an opaque veil too thick to cut.

Finally, the man in the tux eventually said, "Well... I suppose there really isn't a clear one yet, huh? Not until we can see the day after tomorrow."

"...Erm, a metaphor, I take it?" Reeve wondered.

Tseng shut his eyes there, his facade suddenly much more fatigued. "You could say that," he confirmed.

Reeve wanted to ask what that meant, but he supposed their new partnership would have to eventually explain its fullest significance to him. And by the looks of it, Tseng truly did appear too tired to elaborate; even if he were truly a man of any honest virtue. Not that he was, mind you.

Just then, Tseng got to his feet and grabbed his woolen coat from the floor, his every gesture leaden and imprecise. It broke through his character; and strangely enough, the rather human sight of a man worn down to his very last threads instead of the ruthless, tireless leader of the Turks made Reeve feel more comfortable than he's been before this conversation had began.

So said he, "If I may, I'm going to return to my hotel room across town. I'm just too tired to hash anymore of this tonight."

Reeve felt almost miffed at that, but he understood. "Of course," he nodded.

"If you want, we can talk further tomorrow," Tseng continued, tucking his hands into his pockets and heading to the door. "I can only apologize for the fact I may have been too obtuse or something-"

"No no! I believe most of your points pretty clear," the Head of Urban Development reciprocated genially. "The only thing I don't understand is the use of the metaphor. A little cliche, don't you think?"

"I suppose it could posses more tact," Tseng huffed, stopping just shy of the door. "But it doesn't mean that I haven't used the saying incorrectly."

"Hm?"

There was a beat; and then, "We can always plan for the next day, and even the day after that. However, we can never truly account for whatever hurdles the following brings. Tomorrow is easily more anticipated because its nearer-" He slowly let his head tilt backward until he was eyeing the ceiling. "-But, as for the day after... not so much. Usually for a day like that, even I sometimes feel at a loss. Its my own lack of clarity that has been what's kicked me in the teeth, more often than not."

Reeve nodded at this, somehow truly finding a level footing with the other here; maybe even for the first time that very night.

Just then, Reeve watched as Tseng held up the shape-shift materia and glance back over his shoulder; his beetle-black gaze silhouetted by his light skin-tone. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, Mr. Tuesti. I believe I have some calls to make before I can truly lay down for the night."

"Alright. You be safe out there," Reeve genially said.

"To that, I can make no assurances," Tseng wryly replied with an unsettling, sardonic twist of the lip.

And with that, he (hesitatingly) activated his materia and shifted into the likeness of this Mr. Tian Li Kheng. He headed out the door with the brusque, chilling swiftness of a random northern zephyr; minus the whistling wail that followed. It still left Reeve to wonder though, if he truly did make a good decision that night.

Not that he would know until much later.


	18. When Shadows Whisper- part 1

~777~

Contrary to the quiet, comforting camaraderie he experienced with Cissnei and Vincent for the last two days, Zack couldn't have felt any _further _from relaxed as he stood here.

He got a fairly serious call from Hendel yesterday; and you can bet it wasn't anything good. Despite the fact that Zack should be turning off his phone and getting rid of it as per Septimus' recommendation, he was kind of glad he held on to it; considering what Hendel had to tell him:

Apparently, from what Hendel could gather from the footage Zack both sent and told him, Cloud had something like retrograde or dissociative amnesia- which naturally discombobulates his head and introduces a whole host of new symptoms in addition to his PTSD and J-Cell Toxicosis. Now, while Hendel admitted that he'd still prefer to investigate Cloud's condition in person, he managed to scratch this up from a near-_glance_. Moreover, he said that amnesia wasn't exactly something he could just medicate and eventually fully recover from.

Oh no _no_. It was something much more insidious.

_"I thought he obtained that memory loss from the J-Cell infection and mako treatment itself, but I was seriously __**wrong**__," _Hendel told him in this tone that was within itself something worrying. It contained a hardness that Zack never recalled hearing before; a gravity that sounded very much like he was being ordered to march back into war. To say it unnerved and frightened him couldn't be any closer to the truth.

_"-We're talking about very __**real **__brain damage here-" _He continued._ "Hojo had fucked him up in a way that may be permanent. Amnesia in ANY form is a messy affair that takes more than just time to recover from; given the victim can even recover from it __**at all**__-"_

"Whaddya mean?" Zack asked in this suddenly hoarse timbre, noticing that his hands where shivering just then. "Are you sayin' that he can't _**ever **_recover from it-?"

Cissnei had taken notice of this as well, her expression increasingly more concerned as she eyed him. She kept piloting the bird though, her work mask gone and replaced with a dazzling series of growing confusion and worry in varying degrees as seconds ticked by. Zack could also feel Vincent's ghost-fire gaze boring into the side of of his head as he held the phone; the device set to speaker. The man had been rather quiet in the back-seat this whole ride, but his wooden silence further cemented itself as he absorbed Hendel and Zack's words.

There was a sigh. And then:

_"If it doesn't go away on its, then it won't go away __**at all**__," _He said quite plainly._ "And even if he does get some memory back, chances are he won't get __**all **__of it back, yunno? He'll NEVER be the same. Amnesia isn't a surgically clean cut through some person's thoughts and memories; selectively going out of its way to sever only specific parts of the truth. That kind of thing only exists in fiction." _

Zack could almost imagine the doc swiping a hand through the air here, _"In reality, it does so much more: There's __**many **__different versions of it, and there's many causes for that kind of amnesia. It makes a real mess out of the victim's mind; effectively rewriting their autobiographical perception of their life and contorting it into a something else entirely. Sometimes, it stops the individual from absorbing new information instead of rewriting the old; or rearranges memories in ways that seems believable- which is the case with Cloud."_

When Zack said nothing further, his tongue thoroughly tied from this portent's vice, Hendel asked, _"Didn't you say Cloud had a relatively noticeable lack of self-esteem and friends?"_

"Huh? Oh uh... yeah. I did," The man reluctantly admitted.

_"Well... it seems Cloud's unstable psychological state may have compounded with Hojo's experiments-" _he went on, _"-Among whatever other problems he's internalized, its finally broken his already fragile mind-set and re-wrote history for him. Its bad enough he had to struggle with the Nibelheim event and the loss of his mother, plus you, and him having to endure mako poisoning and overdose, and then the J-cell sickness... And then there's Sephiroth's cells..." _The man took a breath, _"Anyways, the point is, he deliberately forgot you so he could try to get through his day-to-day. That kind of guilt he shouldered from having believed he lost you to Shinra was far more an intense trauma for him than we originally perceived. Most likely, he blames himself for your death; and he couldn't carry the weight of it anymore."_

"...Its the one piece of straw that finally broke the chocobo's back," Cissnei mouthed, her mocha-caramel gaze sympathetic.

_"Precisely. And seeing as I can safely say he has this... kind of __neurological disorder, its rendered my previous efforts to make him some medication moot in some parts. I thought a little mako-charged vials like what Zack has prescribed to him would help reverse the condition, had it been linked __**solely **__with Mako Addiction and subsequent poisoning..." _Hendel sighed here,_ "...But this is no longer the case. When it comes to Dissociative Amnesia, the best thing we can do is to wait it out- and hopefully Cloud's companions and a little support, time, and patience will finish healing him."_

Zack flapped his gums soundlessly in mute outrage, but then Vincent queried behind him, "What if he saw Zack again? Do you think it would be too jarring for Cloud to know his friend is alive? Or would this truth maybe heal him?"

_"To be honest, I'm not really sure," _Hendel mumbled. _"-Zack has unfortunately become a source of great pain and shame to Cloud- and I know that isn't something you want to hear, Mr. Fair..."_

Aforementioned man had slumped into his seat, his spirits sinking and sinking continuously more.

_"The thing is-" _The doc carefully went on. _"-Even if Zack __**did **__divulge his identity to him, chances are Cloud may react rather horribly to it and it could incur a relapse of his comatose condition- Perhaps placing him in another fugue state. However, this isn't the only other possible outcome-" _Zack could imagine the doc gesturing wildly with his hands and noodly-arms somehow, _"It may be possible that Cloud could __**recognize **__Zack and probably start recovering in earnest. Or worse case, he'll see that Zack is alive, but his brain may be too far-gone to accept this new information and his memories will remain in this altered state- which isn't likely. Its really hard to say how he'll react to Zack's survival though- His amnesia is a little hard to pin-point because he's been through a lot of events that could've caused any and all of it."_

Cissnei pursed her lip and tossed her supposed trainee a stare that betrayed her growing concern. "So all in all, Cloud's most likely to remember Zack and heal with time, or it'll shock him so bad he'll shut down entirely and turn back into a vegetable," she wondered aloud. "The chances of him _not _remembering Zack at all are still pretty slim though... Right?"

_"Its something along those lines, yeah," _The doc confirmed. _"-Let's keep in mind that Hojo gave both Zack and Cloud __**massive **__amounts of sedatives. Believe it or not, enough drugs like benzodiazepines, hypnotic drugs, and stuff like it over a course of a set amount of time will induce amnesia. Honestly, I'm actually kind of surprised that Zack hadn't developed the condition as well. Hojo has some super strong stuff." _There was a beat. And then,_ "...Although, I suppose his inability to recall anything of Hojo's experiments is a kind of Anterograde amnesia within itself... hm."_

Zack threw himself back in his seat and huffed, somehow not at all relieved by this tidbit of information.

_"Anyways, its possible Hojo may be the root cause of Cloud's case- given it really isn't just Cloud reacting to the idea of Zack's death. Hell, there's multiple ways of how he could've gotten it-" _Hendel continued, the trio almost picturing the shrug in his words. _"This being said, I may still prescribe Cloud some mako doses to see if it'll reverse some bit of this condition. If it doesn't, then we can safely say that mako energy isn't to blame for his amnesia."_

"And it'll be fair to say that there may not be anything else we can do for him," Zack muttered despairingly, his face white and bloodless. He shook his head, arms resting on his knees as the phone hung limply in his loosened grip.

_"Au contraire," _Hendel almost blithely interjected; surprising the former SOLDIER in the process. _"I can safely say we can at least treat his J-Cell sickness and reduce the amount of negative effects it has on his body. So while his amnesia is __**potentially**__ something we can't help, Cloud's other ailments are actually very treatable for me. I already have some other meds prepared for him, on that note."_

"Really?!" Zack almost babbled, jerking the phone back to his face.

_"Yup. Thanks to the spinal sample you've given me, its sped things along," _He could hear the smile in the doc's words there. _"So, whenever I can manage it, I'll try to send it along to you through another Turk's hands. That, or you can directly come pick it up from me in Midgar."_

"We've had contact with Septimus recently," Cissnei suddenly informed him. "We're to meet him once we've finished with our more recent surveillance on AVALANCHE. Do you think you can send the medicine through an available Turk to Septimus so we can pick it up from him then?"

_"I'll get Kunsel on that," _Hendel told them. _"He should be finishing up his more recent job right now."_

Zack blinked and almost face-palmed; having forgotten that one of his best friends was now helping him along this mission. Honestly, with all the shit that's hit the fan lately, how could he have _not _forgotten this little detail?

"So uh, I know this is a bit off-topic and all..." Zack decided to ask, resting his gaze onto Cissnei next to him. "-But what _was _Kunsel's gig? What did Tseng order him to do?"

_"Tseng told Kunsel to get Aerith's mother and the little girl she's with to a place where Rufus can't potentially find them in the future," _Hendel replied. _"The president won't be able get Aerith to willingly surrender herself to the company by using her mother and this tiny girl as a means of ransom. Tseng wanted to make sure that the Turks will be unable to follow through on that order to capture Elmyra, or Aerith herself for that matter. He's technically making sure Kunsel sabotages the Turks over-all tracking ability and effectiveness preemptively."_

"Uh... That's kinda weird, but okay-?" Zack scratched his head. He tossed Cissnei another glance and noticed her wrinkle her nose, but she nodded in agreement. He then went on to ask, "But uh, can I ask _why _he wants to be deliberately sabotaged? And won't Tseng just be able to ask him where he's placed the girls in the future?"

_"He told Kunsel to keep that information to himself," _Hendel added on, Zack hearing some semblance of a smile in his tone. _"Tseng said in these exact words that he doesn't want to put Aerith and her familiars on the spot ever again; if it can be helped. He also said he took no pleasure in bringing her into Hojo's lab when Sector Seven came down- as he and I both knew what the mad doctor had in mind for her. Its already bad enough what he's done to you and Cloud..."_

Zack could _definitely _feel his own anger come to a bubbling boil here, but Vincent's own demeanor was suddenly a seething mass of vitriol that blistered the back of his neck like a bad sun-burn. The ex-SOLDIER passed the elder man a small glance and noticed the angry inferno burning behind his bloodied gaze; a Hellish scowl that can send even the Devil himself running in the other direction.

"Uhhh... right," Zack finally said, deciding he needed to move the conversation along before Vincent scorched the seats with his eye-lasers alone. "So, was there anything else you wanted to tell me about Cloud?"

_"Other than his amnesia, not really. He seems to be doing well enough," _the doc said with some hint of hesitation within his tone. _"-But I still want to meet Cloud in the future and treat him properly. I'm going to have to ask Tseng if it'll be okay to arrange a meeting or something between us... hm."_

"Do you think I should try to talk to Cloud again?" Zack pressed, his tone stiffening somewhat. "Should I tell 'em about this condition he has, or about me in general-?"

_"I... I honestly don't think it wise right now," _Hendel apprehensively reciprocated. _"But I also don't know if it'll be all the worse for him if he continues on as he is... My advice for that is to wait just a __**bit **__longer and see if the medication I prepared for him has any effect on his memory. Again, if he starts to react to the mako vials I made to combat the J-cell sickness, then we can safely link his amnesia to the poisoning- which will help us remove it without us having to expose you. But... if he doesn't react to the mako vials at all, then we'll know his amnesia was something else Hojo did; and we'll need to make a decision on what to do for him based on that."_

Zack imagined a shrug when Hendel also add on, _"Who knows: Given the mako treatment doesn't work, maybe we will let Cloud see you're still up and kickin'. I can only imagine that letting him go on without knowing his friend is actually alive and well would only continue to compound his mental health."_

"Noted," Cissnei said, making sure her gaze pointedly connected with Zack's as they absorbed this information. "But until then, Zack stays silent," she said rather pragmatically.

_"Right! So anyways, I'll make sure Septimus has the meds for when you arrive. You guys keep sending me some footage of Cloud whenever you can get it."_

"We will," Zack affirmed, his gut churning somewhat as he finally closed the call.

This conversation was something that happened the previous day; all the while Cissnei had them slowly trail behind AVALANCHE for the last two days after Rocket Town. They still wanted to get a hold of Tifa or Aerith so to ask them about Tseng's conversation with them, but the trio had been running into road-blocks there:

Cait's messaging system was one way for the Turks; so they couldn't exactly get a message to the cat to separate the girls without incurring any suspicion from whoever _else _the mechanical cat was linked too. Its very possible that the president himself had access to Cait's files and whatnot at any given moment; so its not like Zack and Cissnei could just _ask_ Cait Sith to let them speak to some of AVALANCHE's members without raising eye-brows.

So instead, they took advantage of their unhurried sense of pace and lagged comfortably behind AVALANCHE while waiting for the chance to catch their quarry alone. Cissnei waited for Septimus to message them back for any reason, Zack rested and monitored his health (he was feeling pretty great by the way), and Vincent kept them on track. He even offered to cloak himself to get Aerith's attention, but Cissnei shook her head and reminded him of the canine-thing following them around.

As of this morning, two days after the Rocket Town incident, Cait Sith sent them a frantic message conveying his vexed and frustrating position. AVALANCHE, after having dropped off Shera at Nibelheim's borders up river, had come to Wutai as per Yuffie's request to see her family and stay out of Shinra's sights for a few measly days. However, it took a sour turn for the worse when she _freaking robbed her own friends blind of all their materia and left them stranded in unknown and congestive verdant wilderness in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere._

Yup. Yuffie did that. And boy did it infuriate Zack in ways he never thought would aggravate him so. He could only imagine how Cloud felt about it, seeing how the latter has never had any real patience with Yuffie's shenanigans to begin with.

So now, here they stood in the heart of Wutai: Having followed Yuffie's trail in an effort to help AVALANCHE get its materia back before Shinra forces found them first. Without these precious orbs, Aerith would be much easier pickings for Rufus' men, and Zack's mandatory mission to protect its members would raise his risk of exposure- not to mention that of the Septimus Sect's. As it is, Cait Sith had used his GPS to help them get here while Cissnei, Zack and Vincent covertly escorted the oblivious members of AVALANCHE part of the way here to assure they didn't get anymore lost.

For the moment, Zack blinked off his disorientation as he eyed the town: Wutai's biggest city was a bustling, busy eye-sore that assaulted the senses with red, red, red and _more _red; with some gold garnish and overly elaborate Leviathan and dragon decor on the side. Sometimes, a plethora of other colors were vibrantly splashed across the pagodas, signs and streets in dizzying array. The whole place was tightly cluttered with service stands and shops and eateries with every kind of exotic food you can imagine; and with a vast assortment of smells ranging from completely unappetizing to its polar opposite, and everything else in-between. Zack could see a lot of places even served raw variants of these foods; their strange; fishy smells however only made his stomach curl and sour in ways that lodged more than just bile in the back of his throat.

He couldn't help it; he _truly _felt like he didn't belong here- Especially after the Wutai War some years back. After having been a part of a series of missions that ultimately helped quell any remaining resistance (and hope) this place could've had left, he couldn't help feeling like quite the antagonist. He was an alien intruder in their midst; and he was _plenty_ aware of that. Minerva forbid anyone here knew he was of former SOLDIER affiliation- let alone first class.

_Its like what Angeal always used to say, _he grimly figured. _Once a SOLDIER, always a SOLDIER. You can never truly erase your link with Shinra after the procedure. Huh, Angeal?_

He pulled at his mask and goggles, making sure both articles were tight across his face. Even though it was about as hot and humid as a typical temperate climate in the middle of its hottest time of the year can be, he made sure to wear his best coverage today. His heavy braces and tightened leather coat were already making him sweat like a gore-tooth sow in heat; but he wasn't going to complain this time around. Like hell he would. Zack was a big boy; and he totally believed he can take a little heat this time around.

Cissnei heaved next to him; as if catching onto his uneasiness and mirroring it in-turn. "Okay," she breathed with apparent and equally bereaved resignation. "Didn't think I'd be spending my day _here _of all places, but I guess it can't be helped."

"Yeah... Didn't think so either," Zack drawled, his timbre lower and gruffer than usual. "Honestly, I'd thought we woulda been seein' Septimus by now."

"Same here," she concurred.

Cissnei then shook her head and glanced around, she and the rest of the squad staying well within the shadows of the alley-way. They were cramped between the infamous Turtle Paradise and its neighbors; the clamor of the venders and their uncertain, potential customers louder than Zack's own thoughts. The noise barely stiffed the sound of his semi-erratic heart-beat; but its pulse could still be plainly felt as he idled closer to Cissnei's side.

Vincent harrumphed suddenly; garnering the duo's attentions simultaneously. The man peered around with some level of interest; his maroon eyes a vibrant array of swirling, scarlet fire as he absorbed the world around them. His arms remained at his sides; a gesture betraying his vague sense of intrigue.

"I haven't been to Wutai in so long," he said once he realized he caught his companions attentions. "The one time I did come, it was on family vacation some years before I became a Turk in earnest. Its amazing how its so different, and yet so much the same despite all these years."

Zack cocked his head, finding this portent rather interesting for the fact that Vincent hardly _ever _said anything of his past beyond his tenure as Lucrecia's body-guard. He hummed, somewhat wishing for Vincent to continue, but knowing this wasn't the time. So instead, he said, "Eh, whaddya mean by 'different, yet the same'-?"

"This place is very resistant to change," Vincent went on. "From what you told me about Shinra's past transgressions, you would've expected to see some sort of advancement in commerce and technology here. And yet I see nothing like it. However-" His ghost-fire gaze darkened, "-It _is _rather hard to miss the increased number of weapon shops and unsmiling faces of the natives. Moreover, I see tourism has increased as well. I wonder if this country is now making most of its funds from that-?"

Cissnei nodded, her mocha-caramel gaze far more lined. "Good deduction," she confirmed. "Wutai actually _does _depend on touristy nowadays. Shinra's pretty much cut off most outside resources beyond the country's waters; so they have to make the most out of what they can technically lure in."

Zack snorted in undisguised disgust, the sound further distorted and amplified by his chambered respirator. "...Shinra's pretty much taken over the entire world by now. The only thing they haven't really ruined by now is literally the Promised Land. Its no wonder they're still on Aerith's ass like stink on a Malboro's anus." His mako-eyes flashed here, "They'll never rest until they've spoiled the entire world... and then some."

"In both life and death, it seems," Vincent murmured.

"In the meantime," Cissnei gently prodded, deciding to hastily switch topics before it delved to the philosophical territory. Her eyes bespoke of her inner agreement on the aforementioned words however, despite her strict and schooled Turk mask. "We need to focus on helping AVALANCHE get its materia back. The sooner we do this, the better. Capiche?"

Zack folded his arms, feeling his earlier, irate mood return with a pent-up vengeance. His lips thinned and stiffened unseen behind his mask; his jaw clenching. "Freaking Yuffie bein' a damn problem," he muttered more or less to himself, his enhanced eyes studiously sizing up the over-whelming amount of people around them in search of the aforementioned ninja. "...Now, if I were a bratty, squirrelly-ass kleptomaniac with a god-complex and a metric boat-load of shiny gems that go _boom_, where would I go?"

He meandered about in place, squinting his eyes against the noon sun as he surveyed the noisy environment. "...Hm. Okay, I think I have an idea. First off-" He whirled about to face his companions. "-She'd need a place to stash the materia, obviously. She'd also have to worry about shaking off an irate team of professional terrorists with a canine-thing whose likely got her scent memorized by now. She probably already has ways to get rid of her scent; not to mention the crowds here... she can easily mingle with the huge amount of people here to top it all off..."

"Right," Cissnei nodded, her face super-serious.

"Secondly-" He folded his arms here, "-She obviously knows the place better than any of us _combined_; and I'm willing to bet she knows a lotta people here too..." He pursed his lip anew. "-Which means she can use any of her contacts to derail anyone sniffing her out. These people would naturally be more liable to helping her out rather than any passerby strangers from outside the country. So if Cloud kept wearing his uniform and tried asking anyone if they've seen her-"

"-They wouldn't be of any help," Vincent immediately added on. "And worse case, he could incur an attack from potential enemies who are still sore over the war's end."

"Yeah. Pretty much," Zack confirmed, grimacing at the idea of it. "And that's not even the _worst _part-"

"What do you mean?" Cissnei wondered.

"The times I came here to route out enemies and their strongholds," Zack began, feeling his mind coast away a little more easily than he cared to admit. "-I found out that even civilian homes- let alone the forts- had a tendency to have trap-doors and secret basements and what-not _all _over the place. If there's one thing the people of Wutai love-" He harrumphed sardonically, "-Its sketchy secret passageways, sliding walls, and underground rooms. Smoke and mirrors aside."

Vincent flashed a curious expression all around, "...Are you saying that Yuffie can ultimately be hiding in any _one _of these resident homes and shops, with a potential accomplice or accomplices, whose letting her bunker down in any hidden room or wall in _any _place, all the while they mislead any potential pursuers with a vast assortment of lies or traps? _And _she could've stashed the materia in ANY given secret vault or hidey-hole in this _whole _ginormous town?"

"Yup. Nailed it in one," the ex-SOLDIER confirmed with a heavy slump of the head and shoulders.

Cissnei threw back her head and groaned audibly; surprising her male companions. Zack had never seen her look so grieved by her duties; and honestly it'll continue to surprise him when he looks back on this day sometime later.

"Fucking bloody bull-behemoth shit, this is gonna be _sooo _exhausting," she muttered. "I didn't sign on for this stupid scavenger hunt."

"No kidding," even Vincent grumbled. "...I think I'd rather get shot again over this."

"Don't jinx it," Zack chuckled somewhat. "You just might get your wish if you're careless here."

Just then, Cissnei clapped her hands and sucked in a breath; holding it there for a few seconds before letting it steadily flow back out. "Okay then," she said, pulling her professional work mask on all the way. "Here's what we're gonna do: As much as it pains me to say this, and I _really _do hate saying this-" Her eyes flashed to Zack here, "I just can't see us not managing this in a passable or manageable way without separating again. And after the last few debacles we've experienced every time we did, I can't help feeling like this whole thing is just one giant mistake-"

Zack rested a hand on her shoulder and dipped his head enough so that he was sure they were sharing eye-contact, "Look. You _know _I wouldn't try to get into trouble if it can be helped-"

"Its not _you_ that I doubt," she interrupting rather stuffily. "-But this _entire _death-trap as a whole. This whole place is totally _ANTI-_SOLDIER; and there's no doubt about that. And you know, it always seems like every time I take my eyes off you, something bad happens!" Cissnei crossed her arms, "I'm almost _afraid _to see what other stupid, nonsensical bull-shit is waiting to happen to you once you're alone. It always seems like danger is deliberately trying to single _**you **_out."

"D'aww. I knew you cared," Zack playfully added on as he used the same hand he originally placed on her shoulder to pinch her cheek.

"I'm serious!" She grumped as she swatted his hand away.

"And so am I," he grinned through his mask as he drew away; conveying every ounce of his confidence through continued eye-contact primarily. "I'll be okay. I've been feeling pretty hunky-dory ever since Aerith healed me. And even then, I _swear _on Minerva's beautiful bodacious bust that I won't get into any trouble on purpose." He held up a single, solemn hand and straightened his posture. "And if you still don't believe me, then I swear it on my honor as a SOLDIER- and as your friend."

She still didn't look quite satisfied, but she knew Zack to be sincere. She could only sigh and jerkily bowed her head, gesticulating with a sweeping motion next. "Yeah... Okay," she breathed with resignation. "I think its fair to say that you're the only one out of the three of us that has any idea on how to navigate Wutai, let alone where to start looking. We'll separate where its _**needed**_, and keep in radio contact should we do. So lead the way."

Zack cocked his head to one side, "...Wait, you're actually giving me free reign over this? Really?"

Cissnei bobbed her shoulders and shifted weight to one leg, "Yeah, pretty much."

Feeling a little surprised but certainly happier, Zack passed his companions another confident nod and fixed that grin to his face; only to feel it slip as he passed the humongous city of Wutai another cursory inspection. He placed his hands on his hips and racked his brain, trying to call upon what little he knew of this place and of Yuffie in particular.

"Right. So here's the thing-" He turned back to Cissnei and Vincent. "Let's dissect Yuffie's behavior, and see where it'll take us. We'll start with her weird obsession with rocks in general- which she's always seemed to consistently have, ever since I met her seven years ago."

"Wow. That long?" Cissnei queried.

"Yeah. In fact, you could say materia was always the one guaranteed thing that'll drag her scrawny ass out of Wutai- despite her being the size of a twig and clearly underage. If there's rumors of some new materia to be nabbed, she was on that quicker than anybody can blink. No matter where in the world she had to go, she was there." He scratched his head, feeling himself shudder next, "-Now that I think about it, something's off about that whole shtick... She was always able to get into all kinds of dangerous places and what-not, so either her family doesn't give a damn about her, or they simply... simply..."

Zack trailed off here, suddenly feeling himself blanch as he considered the possibility of Yuffie being an orphan. He'd never really given it much thought to begin with; and he couldn't help like feeling like a complete dick over it.

_...Like holy shit. How can I be such an idiot? Nobody's ever bothered to go looking for her whenever she wandered into a monster's nest... Not to mention why she'd want the materia so bad. Is this whole motivation of hers something born from a sense of vengeance? Is it __**really **__for Wutai's restoration?_

He mashed his lips and turned towards the town again, not entirely sure what the girl's intention really was. If this whole thing really was about vengeance, he knew it was going to get even messier than it already was. Zack had seen enough throughout his years in Shinra to know that revenge had never been the answer; and it couldn't be more obvious. Violence bred even more violence; and that was an absolute. Whether or not Yuffie really was doing this for this presumed vendetta of hers, it didn't seem to be too far of a stretch. Wutai's restoration, or a lost family member, it truly did become more and more obvious to him just what this whole thing was about.

And it couldn't have frightened him _more_.

"...Or uh, they simply died out during the war," he finished lamely, realizing he'd left the long-forgotten sentence open-ended. "So uh, its likely she wants the materia because she wants revenge on Shinra for either the decline of her country, or she's avenging something or someone else... Or maybe even both," he helpfully offered, almost flinching at how mundane those words truly sounded.

_Fucking hell. This is a __**revenge **__quest, _he realized. _And she's right in the middle of a potential shit-storm she herself made. I need to find her before she does something she'll regret... and fast._

"-So she's taken to stealing materia for a certain amount of years and is likely hoarding it all somewhere?" Vincent offered, his natural growl jerking Zack back to the present.

Cissnei placed a contemplative hand on her chin, "That does make sense... But now, I can't help wondering-" She caught Zack's eye and gesticulated, "Do you think she actually ever genuinely cared about AVALANCHE's members at all? I can't help wondering if she only used them to help her get here, and to carry around what she essentially considered was _her _materia-"

"Why do you ask?" Zack cocked his head. "What are you getting at?"

"Well, Aerith is a likable individual with no apparent enemies except Shinra, right? People are generally comfortable with opening up to her-" Cissnei smiled coyly here, "Even some Turks have done this. But now, I can't help wondering if Yuffie ever told Aerith or anyone else within AVALANCHE anything about herself in particular that'll provide a clue. If she was really friends with _any _of them, it would've most likely been with Aerith... who she could've told any of her secrets too; assuming she's done this. That said, maybe if we knew a little bit more about her, it'll help narrow the search some."

Vincent harrumphed an affirmative, "And since we've needed to talk to Aerith and Tifa anyway, maybe now's the time to find a way to approach them; all the while we keep an eye out for Yuffie in the process."

Zack blinked and nodded, mulling over the information offered. "...Yeah. We can do that. In fact-" His eyes roamed the streets again, "Cloud or Barret likely suggested the idea to split off to help narrow down the search. So its likely Aerith would've already split off-"

"And given she or Tifa aren't paired with Cait Sith or the quadruped, we can probably approach either or," Cissnei reflected. "We can _finally_ ask them about not only Yuffie, but Tseng too."

Zack pumped an arm, letting his grin show through the gesture instead. "Now _that _sounds like a plan to me!" he said, feeling his earlier nerves defrost a little.

"Hm. Alright then-" Vincent dramatically whirled on the ball of his heel, his cape flaring somewhat as if an actual wind had brushed by it. "Let's try to find AVALANCHE. If we see any isolated members or pairs, we can safely assume they've already branched off to search for Yuffie. We'll do the same, should it be the case."

"Right," both Turk and supposed trainee echoed.

* * *

~777~

Tifa was having a much harder time of this than she originally thought.

When Aerith told her to simply _spend more time _with Cloud and try to talk to him, it seemed an easy enough task. Hell, she'd been able to do it far more adeptly back in Midgar and Runen; and with no trouble whatsoever. Some moments, Cloud even seemed quite open and willing to spend his free time with her of his own accord; even going as far as to move the conversations along with careless ease whenever Tifa herself was at a loss for words; and the vice versa. He was stoically charismatic and collected; a natural center of gravity that usually caught the attentions of those around him.

And that's just the thing about him.

This was a facade that just didn't belong with him- and its _definitely _something she's learned to notice and acknowledge the longer she spent with him. Hell, she knew this since they'd been living in _Midgar _and its still a sight she wasn't sure she was quite seeing correctly. Her childhood recollections of Cloud usually painted him as a reticent, even confrontational individual who had no fucks to give. He willingly picked fights with the other kids and generally had no friends except for Tifa herself. Tifa had always personally wondered if this ancient representation of him was even remotely accurate; especially when she saw Cloud making strides to befriend his current company- but now she knew better.

Him and Barret got along well enough most days; and most fights that break out between them now was mostly petty and playful jabs that were quickly forgiven. Cait Sith he very much distrusted once, but now looks to for tactical advice and the general movements of Shinra. Aerith was no trouble to him at all. Nanaki was of a strangely like mind to Cloud; being his usual calm and reserved self before the pair jointly bared fangs at any opposing adversary standing before them. They had relatively similar personalities that actually surprised Tifa- and they connected well in a pinch.

As for Yuffie, well... before her more recent transgression, Cloud had steadily began to tolerate her and even value her resourceful flexibility in a fight. Yuffie was, despite her age, clearly no pushover. And for that, Cloud had received her as an equal in battle- and that's something that made Yuffie smile even more brightly than usual.

But now? All Cloud clearly wanted to do was find her and their materia; no longer possessing anymore of his earlier composure and tolerance for her thieving ways. But that was besides the point.

The thing was, Cloud's personality had taken several tonal shifts that shocked and mystified Tifa. She saw bits and pieces of him that just didn't match up with her memory. Moreover, when Tseng had officially confirmed that Zack had truly been involved with Nibelheim, this correction in her ambling memory truly began to open her eyes to his plight. He had a faulty memory that he himself seemed to believe to be so genuine; his words and gestures completely steady and sure. His personality, his bravado, his claims to be a SOLDIER-

It was all a lie. And this she was _STILL _having trouble fully wrapping her head around.

Its not to say that she didn't believe it at all, but its more like she was having trouble _absorbing _it. With Aerith's confirmation on Zack's identity just a couple of nights ago and Tseng's words from Gongaga in mind, she couldn't help wondering if she could somehow get Cloud in a decent conversation and see if she can help him retrace his memory. But she knew better than to bring it up while she still hadn't a full grasp of Cloud's own mind-set; let alone what's exactly wrong with him.

And that was the other problem: She just didn't know _how _to bring it up with him, and its a dilemma she's been pandering around for quite some time now; the dilemma keeping her up at night throughout the past two days.

For now, Tifa had temporarily pushed this to the back of her mind as she assisted Cloud in trying to locate the missing Yuffie; hoping to find their much-needed materia before they had anymore unfortunate run-ins with Shinra forces (like they had this morning; go figure). Tifa had partnered herself up with Cloud, whilst Barret and Cait Sith went off in one direction. Nanaki, Aerith and Cid went in another; all the while the elder man cursed a flurry of sacrilegious slurs that more often than not had people looking at him funny.

Cloud and Tifa roved the streets; asking whoever they can stop if they've seen Yuffie or if they knew anything of her. However, absolutely _no one _was of any help. Tifa wouldn't put it past these people that they could very well be lying for Yuffie's benefit. Its bad enough she and Cloud were vaguely aware of the fact that him wearing a SOLDIER uniform- whether an outdated one or not- was drawing even more unnecessary attention. Tifa was almost _certain _they were drawing enemy eyes.

_Maybe we should've convinced Cloud to stay at the plane? _The former bar-tender couldn't help wondering. _Its bad enough he doesn't have anymore spare clothes. All the ones he had earlier were permanently ruined after Rocket Town... Then again- _She glanced around at the shops, pursing her lip contemplatively. _Its not like anyone would want to service us anyways. I don't think they'd bother with us even if Cloud __**did **__stay with the plane..._

On one such instance, they went into a weapons' shop and asked about Yuffie; with the owner declining any association in a vaguely stuttery bluster. So to help ease the tension between them, Cloud tried to lazily toss him a polite compliment on the weapons; even asking about a new, potential sharpener for the Buster Sword. He pulled on a charm Tifa never thought him capable of; and by all rights an purposes, it should've worked.

Unfortunately, the man's only reply to that was a an outrageously loud "NOTHING'S FOR SALE I'M SORRY SIR-" before falling into a sheepish silence with a petrified look on his face. The pair got the hint to leave, and did so not seconds there-after.

So now, Tifa kept pace with Cloud's more agitated gait; the merc snorting very much like an impatient predator loosing its prey's trail. Tifa herself was hot and pissed too; having a nice layer of sweat and grime caking her underarms, thighs, and embarrassingly enough- beneath her breast in _rivers _that stained her shirt. It was annoying, humiliating, and a great pain in the ass in general. She _**desperately **_craved a shower; and for good reason. She and the rest of AVALANCHE hadn't been able to stop at a proper establishment since Cosmo; so you can bet that was the last time she had such a luxury.

_I'm never taking a shower for granted again, _she almost muttered aloud, swiping a hand across her forehead and casting Cloud a side-long glance. _Here's hoping we'll be able to check into a hotel or inn somewhere around here. At this point, I'm willing to __**choke**__ somebody for it._

To be honest, Cloud stank pretty bad too- like really, really _bad_. If Tifa had to describe it, it had a strangely pungent aroma that reminded her of a mako reactor and salty man-stink. Thanks to the combination of ocean-brine, plane-smoke and aforementioned mako, it was _definitely _a scent to remember. The poor guy hadn't been able to clean himself up properly in the aftermath of the Rocket Town incident either, and Tifa truly didn't blame him if he got short on someone.

His petulant frown was permanently sewn in place; sun-kissed bangs sticking annoyingly around his eyes and face more so than usual. Whenever he had a moment to pause, he kept shifting the weight of the Buster sword uncomfortably around; and then pressed on in a moody saunter. His sweat, very much like her own, stained parts and pieces of his clothes that made it evident that he hadn't had a decent wash in _days_. His drooping hair even added on to the appearance of him being bedraggled; like he'd crawled out of a raging river of sweat itself. Having noticed this, she can only imagine how bad Barret felt; since he had a tendency to do worse off than Cloud in extreme heat.

So yeah, Cloud was pretty _pissed_... to put it mildly. And Tifa was too, respectively.

The two decided on a drink; nothing too fancy, and not anywhere too far from their teams' rendezvous point. It was a miserably temperate zone here; and the sun was blaring down even more intensely now that it was a cloudless afternoon. So, while it hadn't been the best idea they've had today, the duo decided on checking out the infamous Turtle Paradise itself; not giving a hot damn about warranting even more attention than what they've already garnered. They were thirsty enough to not care for the potential repercussions of their decision right now.

At this point, Cloud and Tifa jointly believed themselves capable enough of defending themselves anyways; and they're truly desperate for some basic ice water or something just as refreshing. And since the joint was right there, why _not _check it out while the opportunity presented itself? Again, not the best idea they've figured, but Cloud confidently asserted that unless Sephiroth himself was actually in here, he wasn't worried about any potential enemies in particular-

That is, until they opened the door and found themselves eye-to-eye with three of the worst Turks to be alone with.

Reno, Rude, and Elena were either in mid-swig or mid-bite of what was presumed to be their lunch. Elena in particular was more or less standing before the former two, her mouth agape in either mid-lecture or surprise; or possibly a combination of the two.

Cloud and Tifa merely stood there, somewhat slack-jawed themselves before the blond suddenly snapped his hand to the hilt of the Buster sword and ducked his head in a threatening stance. Tifa slowly raised her fists, her lips a tightened and non-existent slash across her faintly ruddy features.

_"You," _Elena hissed, her icicle-eyes a tangible snow-storm that blew its incredible fury across the short distance between she and the newcomers.

Tifa and her male companion hadn't noticed at first, but there appeared to be no one else inside the Turtle Paradise. The presence of the Turks, for all they knew, may have chased away any and everyone else. The only other individuals here was the cook and server nearby; who both audibly gulped and suddenly ducked beneath the counter.

The three of them stood there, eyeing the other in scowling expectation of a movement meant to betray their likely first and last move. Reno and Rude however merely continued to sit around, boredly watching the silent posturing go on for a full-on minute or two. The former took a halfhearted draught of his cup; whilst Rude primly entwined his hands together and sighed. At the sound of it, it seemed to alleviate some bit of the tension in the air. Albeit, not all of it.

"Yeah, I know," Reno suddenly spoke up; as if in response to the sigh itself. "Our day just got a little shittier. Huh, partner?"

"Hm. Now the booze tastes bad," Rude reciprocated.

The red-head scoffed at that, "Booze has _always _tasted bad, man. Especially this-" He swished his cup around. "Rice wine and Saki always did have a kinda _aroma _to it that's never been quite my cup of tea."

If there was a joke in that last comment, Tifa certainly didn't see it. Still, the two men chuckled at the careless quip like its some sort of inside joke only they understood. That being said, she tossed Cloud another side-long glance and raised a brow, only to see that he was just as confused as she was. When the two focused on Elena again, they noticed that she had this rather annoyed and exasperated look to her face, but she had yet to relax her posture.

"Yunno Elena," Reno suddenly broke in. "Ya should just sit back down and chill. Its not like we're in any rush..."

Now that certainly got her attention. It was like he said the most possibly offensive slur in the entire history of the world; the girl's shock-blue eyes a wintry flash of glacial cold and frigid steel. She whirled about upon her heel and balled her fists at her sides; shoulders squaring indignantly.

"_Wha- _Whaddya mean _**'sit back down and chill'-?! **_We're on ASSIGNMENT for crying out loud!"

"Yeah, and our current assignment isn't to bother with AVALANCHE," Reno corrected her in this exasperated tone betraying his rapidly thinning patience. "Our job is a little more important this time around. Doncha think so?"

Elena shot out an arm, having seemingly forgotten that her back was to the enemy. Cloud could easily _sneeze _and drop the heavy Buster Sword on her by sheer accident at this point, if he wasn't careful. "If its so important," She grounded out, her words severely clipped. "Then _WHY _are we still sitting here and drinking on the job? Hell, why the heck did we even come here in the FIRST damn place?!"

"-Uh, cuz we're never gonna have another chance to do so?" Reno sighed in this 'duh' tone, leaning back in his seat and throwing an arm over the rest.

Rude refilled his own cup across from him and went to set the Saki bottle back down. However, just as he went to grab his shot, Reno snagged it in one impossibly swift movement and teasingly grinned; only to drain his partner's own glass in a span of a breath. Rude made a face at him for the tiny theft, but said nothing to it.

Reno made a face as the likely thick and heady after-math of the rice wine assaulted his nose, but his expression fell back to bored not seconds there-after. "-Elena, you already know how busy we can get, and its not like we can ask for much shore leave nowadays. Not after all the drama going on in Midgar," he went on, ignoring Rude's tiny glare across from him. "So, me and Rude here make the most out of our jobs and try to get in a breather or two. Surely that ain't so bad?"

Elena huffed rather loudly, her shoulders retaining their stiffened position. "Then why _drink_?" she queried. "I get taking a break and all, but _drinking_? On the job? When the enemy could come in at ANY moment-" She gesticulated pointedly to Cloud and Tifa behind her, the pair having somewhat lowered their weapon and fists (respectively) during the exchange. "-And we get our asses handed to us while we're sloshed outta our minds? _Seriously_, Reno? _Are you out of your god-damn mind?!_"

"We're not stupid, sis. We're not gonna get drunk when we're on the clock. A buzz though-" He waggled a finger. "Now that ain't outta the question. Besides, even like _this _we can still take on anything that walks through that door-" Reno shrugged carelessly, although his stare did flash to Cloud and noticeably narrow. "-And that includes any bitchy swordsman with a superiority complex and a gross exaggeration of their copied abilities."

Tifa blinked, but then schooled her expression before anyone else can notice. _Wha- wait... 'Copied'? What does he mean by that?_

Cloud briefly curled his lip, but then it swiftly went back to his usual cold glare. "-'Copied'? Dunno about that, but that's still kinda funny coming out of a guy who won't even _try _to fight me on his own- not after letting his pets get first dibs. You always had your lackeys or partners doing half the work before you even bother stepping into the ring," he tossed his head rather lazily, looking very relaxed despite the fact that Reno's current squad may just be that tipping point for him; seeing as they still had no materia on them.

Reno and Cloud continued to glare each other down, as if they've temporarily forgotten about the other three people standing or sitting with them. The red-haired Turk had long since put down his glass, his expression a bitter leer and a flash of challenge within his turquoise stare. In fact, after a minute of simply sizing each other up, Reno actually got to his feet and swaggered on over, his lips keeping their upward curl. He stepped clear past Elena and met Cloud half-way, hands in his pockets.

"Its like I told ya," he lazily drawled like he totally wasn't thinking of hitting Cloud across his face with his taser mag-rod. "We're a _consummate _team of professionals, man. Meaning we don't do anything stupid like rise to the bait and go swinging at just _any _enemy- no matter how weak they are. I let my boys get 'first dibs' cuz they _wanted _to."

"That's not what I saw back at Sector Five," Cloud coldly inserted. "You let them attack me because you wanted to feel out my abilities without having to put in the work for yourself. Either you're a coward, or you're just a _lazy _asshole."

Reno's lip twitched, but then he threw back his head and _laughed _like Cloud just spat out the funniest joke ever told. It was a cackling snort that lasted mere seconds, but its sardonic sharpness hadn't been lost on the blond and his female companion. "...Lazy? Well, okay buddy. You got me there," Reno snickered almost playfully, bobbing his shoulders in the process. "-But yunno... Just because I don't always wanna be first to throw in on a fight right at the get-go, doesn't mean that I'm a damn _coward _too. Those guys were getting paid to do their jobs too, man."

They briefly fell silent again, but then Reno huffed and turned on the ball of his heel. "Man oh man," he huffed in a somewhat weary tone. "It would be too easy to mince ya right now. But I don't wanna be a part of a real buzz-kill when I got a good one goin' for me as it is. As far as I'm concerned, we're on _break_."

"Right, sure ya are," Cloud snorted, but he decidedly lowered his blade and passed Tifa a mild shrug.

Elena threw out her arms and flapped her mouth open, glancing repeatedly between the AVALANCHE members and her own team in mute outrage.

Reno sat back down and even let out a yawn, seemingly bored and tired with the whole exchange. "So here's the thing, sister," he meandered on, his attention on Elena now. "We're gonna sit and sober up a wee bit, and then we'll get back on the job. And we're _not _gonna bother with these assholes unless they deliberately get in the way. Yunno?"

The female Turk suddenly found her voice and dramatically flailed her arms in visible fury; her fists balling at her sides once again. "Not-uh, we ain't waiting around _any _longer," she snarled through curt lips. "We have a class-A criminal whose carrying around sensitive Shinra Intel on the loose and he's hiding in what happens to be the biggest city in ALL of Wutai! Its an _emergency,_ and yet you're still sitting around and treating this like its just a petty kid-criminal who stole a tiny bit of candy and left a clear trail to his hide-out!"

Reno opened his mouth to say something else, but Elena went on, "No! I don't wanna hear it! Unlike you, I don't _like _sitting around on my ass and prattling on about how my job's too damn difficult because I deliberately neglect it until it escalates! You do that kind of of thing to _yourself_-!" She jabbed a furious finger and then waved a arm, "I'm gonna go on ahead and spend my day actually _doing _something about this. You two can sit here and keep having your fun; but I'll be reporting this to the director himself when this is all through!"

"Aw come on, Elena. You really don't hafta- and she's gone," Reno rolled his eyes as he watched the younger Turk stamp flat-footedly out the front door; completely bypassing Cloud and Tifa in the process. "Freaking great," he muttered under his breath.

"Should we go after her?" Rude politely queried.

"Naw... yeah. I guess we have to," Reno shook his head and slowly got to his feet again. "You know how she is; she's hot-blooded enough to get in a fight that's _just _outside her league and get _us _in trouble with the boss-man for something _she _did. If we don't follow her now, we won't be able to find her later until its too late. Yunno what I mean?"

"True."

"So okay then. I guess we're doing this," Reno blew some hair out of his face and slipped his hands into his pockets again, uncaring of the stares he was warranting from not just Cloud and Tifa, but now the cook and server nearby. "Yo Rude. Can ya be a pal and foot the bill for me? I've already charged up my credit full for this month. And I also don't have the enough physical change on me-"

Rude had his turn to babble some muted mutterings to himself, looking incredulously between his partner and their table. He looked ready to say something in protest for real this time, but he once again didn't follow through on the impulse. Instead, he left some gil on the table and wordlessly sighed, shaking his head and fixing his shades in place.

Reno stopped right back in front of Cloud again, only this time passing the slightly shorter man his most hardened stare. He kept his hands out of sight; indicating his lack of interest in anymore posturing. His thin lips thinned even more, eyes slanted with unreadable thoughts and likely salty comments waiting to be heard.

"...I just don't get it," he eventually sighed, like he just posed a great question deserving of a fantastic answer but was instead denied the astounding privilege of ever hearing its likely life-changing answer. "...You're not even _worth _the effort. I dunno why the big-guy thought you were worth savin' and all; especially since he nearly got himself killed over it. You don't even have the decency to remember what he did for you, do ya?"

"I- what?" Cloud shook his head, wondering where in the Hell did _that _come from.

"He and the boss..." Reno continued, his expression borderline disgusted as it was exhausted. "They seem to think you're good for something, but I just don't see what for. The big-guy's gotta heart that Tseng thinks is worth protecting, and by extension means _you _get some sorta special treatment from us... and I say its a load of jack-shit. We can't even do our own jobs _right _anymore 'cuz of you."

"Reno," Rude suddenly butted in, his tone rather wary and containing just the slightest hint of a warning.

The sound of it seemed to be a hint for Reno to shut up; and he did just that. In response to it however, he jerked his head like he wanted to spit but refrained from doing so. He apparently didn't want to soil the expensive carpeting of the infamous Turtle Paradise.

"Yeah yeah, I know," he heaved rather resignedly. "...We should be going."

He strode easily past the pair, not at all giving a damn that Cloud had yet to remember to put away his blade. Rude followed behind and actually spared Tifa and the blond a respectful dip in the head, as if they weren't enemies at all. The whole exchange had firmly baffled the two; keeping them pinned in place with just straight confusion alone.

Just as Reno grabbed the front door though, he nearly bumped into a _huge_, six-foot-four-inch wall of gun-metal black clothes with rivets and leather straps crossing over it. He paused and had to physically look up, blinking off his surprise and squinting like he was staring directly into the sun.

"Wha-? Oh. Holy shit man," he went on to say with a tiny note of irritation. "What the bleeding Hell are _you _doin' here? And does sis know you're here?" he added on while stopping to look on either side of him as if he was looking for someone else in particular.

The larger man nodded his head in reply, his gaze entirely shrouded by the hood. "Assignment," he almost growled, his voice distorted by his respirator. "-And yeah, she's here; but she's not with me as of this second."

"Uh-huh," Reno nodded sharply, his gaze suddenly a snarky mask that didn't do too well to conceal his disbelief.

Tifa suddenly froze in place, feeling her wine eyes arrest themselves upon the somewhat imposing individual standing in the door-way. _Wha- No way. Is that-? _she wondered brokenly to herself. She couldn't help the shaking of her own head, wondering what and why in all the world was _Zack Fair himself _doing here.

Between the two of them, Zack's larger size and general appearance was just off-putting; to say the least. He was _literally _head-and-shoulders taller than she and Aerith; practically matching Sephiroth's own frame. And with Reno just inches from him, it couldn't be more apparent. With that little picture in mind, Reno looked more or less like a leggy-fox trying to judge its odds with a hungry and muscly dire-wolf.

"...Look pally. You make for a damn convincing door more-so than you do a window, so do ya mind moving out the way?" Reno inclined his head. "We got an assignment of our own to get to, just so yunno."

The hooded man ducked his head, and then side-stepped for the pair to pass him by. He even pulled the door all the way open for them and held out an arm in polite deference; his goggled eyes completely unreadable.

"Cool. Give sis my love," Reno sarcastically threw at him as he ducked into the street. He did toss Cloud and Tifa a backwards glance though, and then he focused his suddenly suspicious stare onto the larger individual. "And uh, don't do anything _I _wouldn't do."

"I'm well aware," The hooded man returned with a note of irritation within his deepened timbre; something that almost sounded like a belly-deep growl through the breathing apparatus.

Reno kept a hard and judgmental stare leveled at him for the longest moment, but then he shrugged and flicked his head at Rude. They slipped wordlessly past him, not giving the situation another thought to it.

Once the Turk pair had gone though, Zack hesitatingly shut the door and huffed tiredly; as if the brief exchange had already exhausted him too. After that, he sauntered _right up _to Cloud and Tifa as if they weren't anything to worry about. He paused before them and lifted his head, his rust-flecked gaze a dim glow underneath the confines of his hood.

"Heya," he greeted simply, albeit his tone low and unsure.

"...You again?" Cloud replied instead, his tone even stiffer than before. "The Hell do ya want now? And what the heck are you even doing _here _of all places-?"

Cissnei's supposed trainee considered his words for about half a minute, and then he shifted his weight to one leg in a casual show of ease- but to Tifa, it looked more like an apprehensive nuance demonstrating his need to run in the other direction. "...My job, apparently," was his first, clipped reply. Tifa certainly didn't mistaken the swift slide of his wrongly-colored gaze as it settled upon her in just nano-seconds; the motion making her wary. He turned back to Cloud before she can say anything though, "I hear you needed some help with a little scavenger hunt?"

"How you figure?" Cloud huffed as he folded his arms, his expression guarded.

The man's incorrectly-colored eyes wondered over to the counter next, suddenly taking notice of the two employees still milling about uncertainly. "...Not here," he suddenly imputed. "Do you think we can talk while we walk?"

"Uh... Sure," Cloud grumbled, his gaze suspicious.

The man turned and took the lead out; going as far as to open the door for them and wait. Like a perfect gentleman, he continued to wait with no signs of hostility whatsoever; his gaze still difficult to read but fairly neutral from what Tifa can glimpse. The pair went past him, and then he shut the door and loped easily astride Cloud and Tifa jointly like he _belonged _there. The weirdness of the observation stupefied Tifa; who couldn't help wondering why Zack Fair- Cissnei's assumed partner and Aerith's current flame- would be meandering up like it was no big deal after all the silence he's betrayed.

And all Tifa could only think was just how much of a bad sign it was.

They waited until they were clear of the main thoroughfare and the enormous crowds before he began first; abjectly taking Tifa by surprise yet once more. "...I apologize for suddenly dropping in like this," he murmured mostly to Cloud. "But I'd figured you can do with the help when it comes to someone like Yuffie."

Cloud's mako-charged eyes became rigidly frosty, his apathetic mask suddenly sewing itself back into existence. "You know her?" he queried in a near-accusative tone.

"To an extent," he returned somewhat cryptically. He bumped his shoulders next, "It just so happens that she's got a bit of a history with Shinra- and myself included. She stole materia from me back at the Costa Del Sol; right after we disembarked from the cargo freighter."

"...Uh-Huh. Now why am I not surprised?" Cloud rolled his eyes, although it wasn't meant to be a rude or sarcastic gesture meant for the man beside him. "So you got it back in the end?"

"I did," Zack- or Garm, if Tifa was remembering it right- huffed with fleeting humor. "-But she didn't exactly make it easy for me. On the side, she's griefed SOLDIER members in the past some years ago; throwing herself at top-secret mining sights and monster dens for materia of any kind. After having considered this-" He flicked his head at the pair, "My partner and I thought you could use the help. This place isn't exactly easy to navigate either, on that note."

Cloud scoffed, but said nothing to protest this; as Tifa had half-expected.

The larger man skulked past Cloud and jerked his head again, "I wanted to give you something, to help make the search a little easier for you. It may be pointless now, seeing how recognizable you are... but I can only see it being more help than hindrance. Hopefully, they should fit."

He stopped before them, and then reached into a pouch he had strapped to his side. His glaives clinked minutely, but not too much as he drew out what looked like a roughly-folded set of clothes. Cloud and Tifa jointly couldn't help puzzling over this phenomena, blinking in surprise and passing each other matching stares.

"From what me and Cissnei observed," he reasoned as he noticed their shocked expressions. "-You guys don't carry a lot of spare clothes around, and you hafta travel light as it is. And seeing as you're still dressed as a SOLDIER, its safe to assume that you don't have any other spares." He then went on to say with a hint of warning in his level timbre, "And we _both _know that wandering around Wutai dressed as you are is only going to earn you a knife in the back."

"I dare 'em to _try_," Cloud shrugged, not at all cowed by the words. "And even if it did happen, its not like it'll kill me-"

Zack snorted; but whether from annoyance or humor, Tifa couldn't tell. "...Well, I know that by this point its probably a fruitless gesture-" He continued, his stare a little stiffer. "-But you should still get out of those threads so you can maneuver around a little easier."

"I don't really see much point _now_. Not after having taken a pleasant stroll around the town," Cloud countered.

"Maybe so," Zack returned the shrug, his tone containing some traces of his patience despite Cloud's posturing. "But for those of 'em that hadn't seen you and weren't tipped off by anybody that _has _seen ya, it'll still serve as some kind of cover. Moreover, it'll help them feel a bit better if you weren't dressed like that. You'll find talking to the citizens here a little bit easier, on that note."

Cloud didn't argue there, but he did however raise a brow. Tifa did the same, her gaze flickering to both Zack and the bundle of innocuous laundry in hand. She even went as far as to hesitatingly reach for the proffered articles first; cautiously taking them in hand and putting them in the crux of her arm while eyeing up the sizes on them.

_No way. He even has the measurements right, _she immediately noticed as she eyed the numbers stuck to the collar of the indigo tee and the tag of the green-camo colored cargo pants. _Now why would he know Cloud's sizes-?_

Cloud gently took the articles from Tifa, and then fingered the new, light-weight material with some level of puzzled scrutiny. His gaze turned to suspicious as he noticed the same thing she had.

"Anyways," continued the other. His sudden movement arresting their wandering attentions back to him, "You should slip those on so we can get on with the search. I wanted to ask though, before we do-" He inclined his head at Tifa this time, "How much do you know of Yuffie and her relations anyway? You have any details in mind that stick out to you?"

"...Huh-? Oh," Tifa blinked off her consternation, feeling her eyes wander up and down Zack's larger form in varying levels of confusion. She felt her lips purse and thin next however, realizing that he was fishing for what should've been potential bits of useful information that could've helped them out with finding Yuffie earlier. However, the girl had been surprisingly discreet with her back-story until just the other day; only going as far as to tell AVALANCHE a bit about her presumably surviving father.

Upon recollection of this detail, Tifa moved a hand to her chin and then said, "She uh... Yuffie never really tells us much about herself. Me and Aerith in the past had asked her about her back-ground and what-not, but its only until the other day did she finally mention some potential family living around here-"

"Oh yeah?" Zack folded his enormous arms and cocked his head, shifting weight to one hip.

Cloud snorted and waved it off with a careless and sharp motion, "It coulda been a lie for all we know, so don't get your hopes up. She said she has a dad around here, but I never got the impression that she could actually be telling the truth. You'd think her real family woulda wanted to know where she was with all the time she spent with us out in the world..."

"Yeah. True," Tifa conceded. She moved a hand to her face and swept some rogue strands of loose hair out of her sweaty face, sighing in the process. "I guess it was just a lure to get us here... Man I feel like such an idiot. Yuffie's never really hid the fact that she was thief from us..."

"Wait- _huh_?" Zack's head pivoted to the opposing side, his eyes a dumb-founded display despite the goggles. "Whaddya mean by that? You mean you still knowingly trusted her anyways despite the fact she's _clearly _been a thief? Why would she _not _hide that fact anyhow-?"

Cloud crossed his arms next, his eyes on the ground, "Yuffie's best attributes were her stealth and versatility. She gladly helped us get supplies whenever we needed it and we couldn't move freely within a Shinra-occupied town; and that included stealing from any grunt we ran into. After a while, we managed to get as much materia as we did _because_ of her. It was a useful ability, when it wasn't being used on _us_."

"-Not that we entirely lowered our guards about it," Tifa added on. "But we never really did give much thought to the idea that she'd try to weasel us out of our own belongings once we got here. I still feel pretty stupid about it... Aw hell, you could even call it embarrassing-"

"...Well, its not embarrassing so much as its an unpleasant surprise," The Turk associate suddenly spoke up, his tone genial. "You guys thought she was a common ally with your shared hatred for Shinra, right? You guys even willingly risked your lives for her back at the cargo ship-" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "You've spent weeks traveling with her, sharing your meals and likely your life-stories with her- And frankly, pretty much most people whose ever befriended Aerith has never wronged her; and they usually never think to do so. I've seen Yuffie listen to Aerith when she stole materia from me that one time. I actually didn't get the impression she'd turn around and do this to you, let alone to _Aerith _of all people."

The guy turned his attention back to the town itself, arms folded again, "I mean, there's a difference between trusting her with your stuff, and trusting her with your _life_. How could you have possibly known that she'd rip you off like that once you got here? She left you guys in the middle of Wutai's worst wilderness without so much as a backwards glance. I think its fair to say that she took everybody off guard with a stunt like _that_-"

Cloud harrumphed, but said nothing to this. He and Tifa however shared a glance, their pensive expressions matched.

Zack went on, "Its really hard to picture someone you've willingly thrown yourself into peril for would do such a thing to you in such dangerous territory that you know _nothing _of. So if its any consolation, its not something you should feel embarrassed over, Tifa. If anything-" He shook his head head, "-Feel pity for the fact that Yuffie still apparently doesn't know right from wrong; despite her age. Maybe the Wutai War really _is _to blame for that mentality of hers."

Tifa hummed, somehow finding herself agreeing whole-heartedly with the man's words despite being a little wary of his presence and current alignment. If nothing else, Zack's words were sensible in a way she already knew, but just couldn't really quite find the right terms for.

The larger man turned back to Cloud next, "Anyways, you should swap out of those duds so we can get going. Hopefully we'll get lucky and find someone whose seen her around and is actually willing to let us know." He jerked a thumb to the side of his head, "My partner is keeping an eye out and an ear low to the ground. She'll ping me if she sees any signs of Yuffie."

Tifa blinked and glanced away, gouging a toe into the earth once again as she wondered why this man before her would go to such lengths to help. _He's really got nothing to gain from this except unnecessarily risking exposure, _she knew as she eyed him. _Is he really that good of a person-? Like Aerith says he is? Its not like he's actually getting paid to do this... Right? _

_But then again... with what he said... hm._

"Now hold on-" Cloud suddenly sputtered, lifting a hand as if it'll physically put a barrier between the two of them. "What's with all the help for anyways? Where's this all coming from-?"

Zack blinked, and then folded his arms, "What? Do you not _want _the help...?"

Cloud's eyes remained creased, and rather pointedly at that. "Its not that," he almost spat. "Its just- Why do you do that? Help us out in general, I mean."

"Ugh... because its my job to make sure you guys can adequately protect Aerith with the right gear...? Which just so happens to include your precious materia?" Zack reciprocated in a somewhat sarcastic, but not-at-all bitter inflection. If anything, he sounded wary.

"Ohhhhh~ _no_. Not this again," Cloud chuckled ironically, dismissively waving off the whole previous statement. "You can't just be goin' around hiding behind the whole _Aerith's-safety-is-our-priority-_excuse again. You even admitted to me just the other day that the Turks were interested in me-" He bowed out his shoulders and almost got directly into Zack's face, his nose and the respirator barely inches apart. The other, taller man however didn't move as Cloud said, "-But you never told me _why_. You're not helping us out strictly for Aerith's sake; that much even _I _know. What the hell do _you _even get out of all this? Why would you unnecessarily show yourself to us just to help out? I _still _don't fucking buy it."

Zack threw his head back with a sigh, and then he said, "-Not this again. That's got nothing to do with why I'm here today. And its like I already told you: I just can't go around giving you the answer because you _asked_. I can only tell you so much-"

"-Not like you told us much to begin with," Cloud interjected with a snarl.

"Look bud," Zack tiredly closed his eyes and held out a hand as if to push it all away. "-You already know we're helping you out to meet our own ends. That's enough of an answer within itself. Its bad enough my partner lectured me about telling you even _that _much..."

The shorter man suddenly paced in place, rolling his eyes at that. "Then _why_? You, an injured Turk with no damn uniform, whose apparently unable to fight for long periods of time, who just gave us a moving spiel about Yuffie-" He shook his head. "-Whose willing to put our lives above Shinra brass- whose unflinchingly put himself to great risk to fetch my blood for whatever the fuck you're doing- Who just offered to help us look for shit that **_we_ **made the mistake of losing in the first place-"

Cloud snorted, waving it all off like it was a delusional fever-dream. "So tell me then: What part about this whole ordeal should I _not _question? I don't get why you'd want to do this to yourself just for a paycheck you're likely not even getting until you're a _fully authenticated Turk_." He jabbed a finger at him, "-Cuz guess what? I _know _for sure Turks don't actually put their lives on the line for anything else unless its for something _personal_. You assholes never _not _have a reason for what you do."

Zack's shoulders slumped as he sighed again, although he had no reply to this. In fact, his expression looked briefly pained, like he truly had no counter to this.

As for Tifa, the little monkey-in-the-middle here, she could only sit there and helplessly look on as the two quibbled semantics; knowing full-well the answer to Cloud's questions but was quite unable to say _why_:

From what Aerith told her, Tseng and Zack were friends; even to an unknown extent. And apparently, from what Tifa had managed to piece together just a couple days ago, Zack got into trouble with Shinra and attempted to get out of it; only to get caught by the Turks or something. Not that Tifa knew this for sure. However, Tseng had ordered his brethren to bring him in _alive_; and even gave Zack the gear he was wearing now to help keep him hidden. He let Zack join in as a presumed Turk trainee whose yet to earn his uniform, just so he could personally watch over Aerith- his girlfriend- and Cloud, who Tifa assumed had been a great friend of his in the past. And so far, he's already shown _proof _that he genuinely cared for Cloud.

Tifa wondered back to her meeting Tseng in Gongaga, remembering having asked the man if the two had really been friends at some point. Upon hearing the query, Tseng actually looked _surprised _as he heard it; even asking himself if Cloud ever mentioned any association with the SOLDIER. If nothing else, surely these things meant that Zack was genuinely here for Cloud's sake; if not for Aerith's?

_But that doesn't explain why Cloud doesn't remember him, _Tifa couldn't help puzzling over. _Why did Cloud deliberately forget an assumed best friend? Its not like he had that many to begin with- _She recalled as she dawned back on their childhood in Nibelheim. _So, were they __**actually **__friends at any point? Or did I pull that assumption from out of nowhere-?_

_No... Its not from out of nowhere, _she immediately corrected herself as she further reflected upon the prior information. _The Turks don't like Cloud, and they've never disguised their attempts to kill him or hurt him back in Midgar. So, for them to start helping him out __**now **__in the span of us not seeing much of them between Midgar and now- I can only assume its __**because **__of Zack that they've stopped trying to come after Aerith and Cloud in earnest. So, Zack is technically shielding us from them, and he sees that. He's trying to keep his distance to help Cloud, but he can't exactly say anything to anyone because it could hurt them somehow._

_But... given I'm not assuming too much here, in what way __**would **__it hurt? Is there some other reason as to why he's here today? Risking exposure just to be near us when he's usually put himself out of arm's reach? Why would the Turks deliberately put an interfering factor like Zack within their midst just to hinder their jobs anyway? Zack's inclusion as Cloud and Aerith's metaphorical and literal shield could only __**hurt **__them, right?_

Whenever push came to shove, Zack had shown up and almost thoughtlessly did his best to help out. Even if he and Cloud had literally come to blows about it back at Runen, Tifa can now somewhat see the reason for it- but not all the way.

_"You said to 'watch' Cloud earlier, didn't you?" _She remembered asking that night.

_"I did. And as you should," Tseng affirmed. _

_"He's not... dangerous, is he?"_

_Tseng shrugged, much to Tifa's horror, "...I've no idea. And that's the problem we have here; all I ask is for you to make sure Cloud doesn't do anything life-endangering to himself or to the people around him- namely Aerith. So long as he has you all, I don't see why it should be a problem. Am I wrong here?"_

Tifa watched on as Zack started pacing around himself, apparently getting tired of arguing with Cloud; who did have a right to wonder why Zack was helping them out the way he was. Poor Cloud had been left oblivious; and he _knew_ it. It frustrated him to a near confrontational extent; and it felt wrong to keep going on without knowing _why _the antagonistic Turks were trying so hard to help all of a sudden. Cloud had been left in the dark; and he clearly felt like he was losing control over his life somehow.

And for all they knew, he might as well have.

_Tseng mentioned Hojo... and then there's Cloud's forgetfulness... and him being a potential danger..._

She thought back on when they stayed at that inn before their arrival to Gongaga; when Cloud had a fit and nearly fell from the fifth or sixth story floor of the building. She thought back to Nibelheim as well, when he seemed to have suffered from a hallucination of some kind that traumatized him for the next two days after. And then there was his frequent headaches, and a snide mention of his 'copied' abilities- thanks to Reno. With all of this pieced together, Tifa could see that Zack's presence here really _did _mean something wasn't well with Cloud. Clearly, he felt like he had to be closer by than usual, and he needed to be close enough to watch Cloud and jump in _immediately _if a fight broke out.

Tifa dawned back to Reno's words, suddenly realizing that they weren't just some side-ways comment just to confuse and frustrate Cloud. When Reno mentioned _big-guy_\- he literally meant Zack. The _boss-man _however, was clearly Tseng. And he'd deliberately dangled those two terms above Cloud's head knowing he wouldn't be able to understand.

_"I dunno why the big-guy thought you were worth savin' and all; and especially since he nearly got himself killed over it. You don't even have the decency to remember what he did for you, do ya?"_

_His breathing problem, _Tifa suddenly realized as she eyed Zack's respirator. _Was Cloud somehow the __**cause **__of it-?_

"_Look_. Just drop it, okay? I'm trying my best here," Zack harrumphed with a plain mixture of irritation and fatigue. He had a hand over what little of his face can already be seen. "...Didn't I tell you three days ago that I'd let you know more when I can?"

The blond merc had squarely folded his arms, his stare militant and scarily frosty. He turned on the ball of his heel and threw up his arms once like he was thankfully giving up; his stare pinched and tensed. He looked _trapped_, honest to god.

Seeing this, Tifa unconsciously reached out and placed a placating hand onto Cloud's bare shoulder; doing her best to maneuver into view while smiling as softly as possible. She squeezed just the slightest bit, even going as far as to use the other hand to grab Cloud's gloved one resting on his hip. She pulled it closer to herself, and locked his wintry gaze onto her own warmer one to help defuse the ticking time bomb within him.

_I will do right by him, in whatever way I can. If I have to be his inner voice for when he has none, then I'd be happy to take it. If Zack isn't allowed to be his friend, then I will happily be that medium for them. No matter what I have to do, I will do it for you, Cloud._

"...You're hot. Right?"

"Eh... what-?" Cloud's expression _immediately _fell away; his face now confused and uncertain. He looked ready to babble out-right, but he had the graces to zip his trap shut as Tifa went on.

"Its hot out," she inclined her head at the area around them. "And we didn't get that drink at the Turtle Paradise. Once we're done here, we can go and give that another try. Doncha think so?"

"Huh? Oh... right," The blond swordsman finally seemed to catch on to what she's saying; and for a moment, it nearly looked- dare Tifa say it- _disappointed _somehow. But before she can fully identify that however, Cloud perked himself back up and nodded; mashing his likely dried lips at the idea of some water sating any and all of his troubles right now. "Yeah. We can do that later," he muttered in agreement.

"Then... its a date?" she teasingly added on.

Cloud's expression had fully softened now, and it cheered Tifa immensely. His shoulders fell slack, his lips curving ever so _slightly_. He hummed an affirmative, all traces of his earlier frustration already ebbing away.

Tifa felt Zack's eyes on the back of her neck, and then she turned just to catch the look of surprise in his usually guarded expression. He blinked quite a few times in shock, as if in good measure. And then, Tifa couldn't help the wrinkling her nose as she noticed he suggestively lifted a brow or two; even going as far as to _teasingly wiggle it _at her.

She huffed and reluctantly let go of Cloud's hand, the blond turning to face the taller man again. "Alright then, _fine_," he huffed, clearly tired and sweaty and ready to end the day. "We'll drop the subject, for now. But you better get back to me on this!"

Zack held up both hands in submissive confirmation. "Hey, I promised you, didn't I?" he flicked his head gently. "Just not today."

"Promises don't mean anything from a guy who hides his face from his own job," Cloud snorted, but his voice thankfully contained no more bite to it. He was seen holding up the clothes Zack had offered him earlier, and then said. "Okay. I'll go put these on, and then we can focus on Yuffie. Deal?"

"Deal," reciprocated the other, his rust-and-blue eyes brighter.

Tifa blinked herself out of her reverie and watched Cloud slip off behind a tree; moving as far as he could from them. He plunged the Buster sword's tip into the earth and ducked out of sight; his brightly colored hair occasionally poking out from behind the trunk.

Now technically considered alone, she turned towards Zack and noticed that his eyes were already firmly planted upon hers; although his expression couldn't have been any harder to read. Having observed this, Tifa recalled Aerith's advice to look for another means of reading Zack's attempts to disguise his emotions. So she gradually moved her eyes down his body and noticed that his hands were indeed clenched; and its a likely anxious nuance.

Silence hung between them for a rather awkward few seconds; even if it felt much longer to the former bar-tender. In response to this, Tifa merely folded her hands behind her back; schooling her expression to look as impassively neutral as possible.

Just as she thought he wouldn't say anything at all, he immediately contradicted this assumption by saying, "Hey, uh... Thanks for helping me with Cloud. For a second there, I thought he was actually gonna sock me right in the jaw. Or in the chest again-" He presumably made a face there; from what little Tifa could see of it when his eyes crinkled. "-And I certainly don't need him to be doing _that _again anytime soon."

"Of course," Tifa shrugged lopsidedly. "If I _hadn't _said something, I think he might've even challenged you to another fight. It would've been really awkward if I didn't help him out this time," she tried to laugh off, but couldn't quite do it convincingly.

The man sighed, his expression continuously more obscured. "Heh... maybe so," he replied mechanically. "So uh, you're not actually mad about that-?"

Tifa shook her head, "About Runen? No. I understand why you did it when you did. You were only trying to help Cloud then, right?'

Zack's eyes flashed, his expression almost wide-eyed but settling back to its more passive and elusive nature. The tension left his shoulders, and his next response came a little more easily, "That was the idea at the time... yeah. But its not like you guys made it easy on me. Now that I think about it though-" He chuckled there, "You hit pretty damn hard for someone whose never had any military training!"

"Sorry about that," Tifa quickly apologized. "I didn't know it then-"

He waved it off, "Don't sweat it. It healed fast enough. With that said though... I assume Aerith's told you about me?"

"For the most part, yeah."

"Ah. Okay then, I guess that's good," He muttered uncertainly. "-Saves me the trouble of having to explain myself, at least."

Tifa mashed her lips and nodded, not sure as to where this likely brief interlude would even go before Cloud finished dressing. It wasn't like he actually slow about it; although his SOLDIER uniform can be a bit of a pain if you didn't know what strap went where.

Zack moved a timid hand to the back of his head and rubbed sheepishly, his tone noticeably its normal, somewhat more familiar mild-mannered timbre instead of the deliberately lowered growl he seemed to favor nowadays. "So uh, can I ask ya something else real fast?" he tried in an increasingly lower tone.

"What is it?"

"...The real reason why I came here," he lowly murmured between he and she. "-I actually do want to help ya'll with Yuffie, don't get me wrong. And I wasn't exactly lying about her history with Shinra- But uh... I really came to talk to _you _more specifically..."

Tifa finally stopped churning the dirt beneath her, having no idea why she felt like she had to be on her guard. It wasn't like Zack had said or done anything threatening, but she still didn't like the twisty feeling in her belly. "What's it about?" she could only merely reply, her cherry-wine eyes flashing once to Cloud's tree and back to the man before her.

"The first thing is, I wanted to talk to you about Cloud _himself_. Its uh... kinda important," he muttered with some apprehension. He darted a glance to Cloud's location as if for emphasis, and then he added on more hurriedly, "-And the second part was that Aerith tells me you and Tseng had a little talk or something some time back. He tipped you off about me, right?"

Tifa blinked and intertwined her hands, feeling her nose wrinkle in consternation. The first subject she actually expected, but the latter one had surprised her quite a bit. "Not really," she muttered back thoughtfully in response to the last query. "I actually pressed him about it, but he dodged most of my questions."

"Then... how did you learn about me?" Zack slowly inquired.

Tifa opened her mouth to say, but it wasn't like she anticipated on finishing the convo anyways. At that second, Cloud finished up and was meandering back over; throwing the Buster sword over his shoulder with greased ease and clipping it back into place. He still had a tiny piece of his SOLDIER wear on; but it was only the part of the suspender with the magnet clip for the sword. It looked a little off, but it suited him well enough.

"They fit," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone to Zack. He held his dirty clothes and bolted pauldron in his left, uncertain as to what to do with them.

"Good to know," Zack replied in that little grumble of his. He was seen removing the now emptied pouch on his waist, handing it to Cloud for him to place his used clothes in. "For the record," he genially said. "-You can keep those- both the clothes and this. You might as well use that for dirty laundry."

"Huh? Oh uh, thanks... I guess," Cloud blinked as if blind-sighted by the kindness, his expression bordering on confused and suspicious again. He stuffed away his normal wear and strapped on the now heavier pouch, his glacial gaze not ever really leaving the taller man for long.

"Okay. Let's try heading to a street you guys haven't been to yet," Zack offered. "I'll cloak and go inside the houses and look for Yuffie there."

"Why inside the homes?" Tifa wondered.

Zack bumped his shoulders at them, not at all bothering to conceal his disgruntled expression. "Wutains love their trap-doors and hollow walls- something they've learned to adapt into their life after the war," he shrugged almost guiltily there. "Can't really blame them, all things considering. That said, I'll be knocking around inside the interior while you guys wait on the outside. In fact, you can probably distract the residents or owners with conversation to disguise what I'm doing. If I flush out Yuffie though, you'll be ready to nab her right then."

"Now that's an idea," Tifa nodded to her blond companion, who looked equally surprised as well as satisfied by this.

"Can you guys whistle?" Zack pressed.

When the pair nodded again, the man went on. "Cool. Now, if for some reason we get separated while doing this, give two sharp bursts to get my attention for something; like if you see Yuffie and need me to act fast," he continued to elaborate, holding up the indicated number of fingers. "-And give three to call me over in general for anything else. If there's some kind of emergency or you get in a pinch you just can't handle, give me a single, long blow. I'll try to report to you as frequently as possible if Cissnei gets back to me with anything, so I'll be _super _close-by."

"Gotcha," Cloud nodded, with Tifa doing the same beside him. "So would you whistle if you run into any similar problems?"

"Yeah. Or at least, I'll do my best even with this damn thing bein' in the way," He pointed at his mask, his leisurely movements betraying his humor. He passed them a lazy wink, and then, "-And again, if I see her, I'll letcha know if she's coming your way with two thrills."

Tifa clapped her hands together in cautious excitement, feeling a little more cheered by the idea of a somewhat more organized plan than the old 'split-up-and-search' routine they've been stuck with for the better part of the last while. She passed Cloud a little glance and smiled, glad to see his mood was already improving too.

The three of them then turned towards the town and started to head back, but Zack deliberately lagged behind Cloud just to walk astride Tifa for just a fluttering second. The woman briefly wondered if he was merely going to continue their previously dropped conversation in blatant nearness to Cloud; but Zack instead murmured an ever so low "We'll finish this later" to her ear and cloaked quicker than she can react. She could still hear his steps for a minute or two; but once they neared a house, she heard nothing of him at all. If she didn't know better, she wouldn't think they were being followed in the very least.

_Which is a little creepy, _she admitted to herself, but she didn't complain about it. If it meant they'll eventually get their materia back, then she'd gladly take the help from even a presumed Turk associate. It did actually help to know that Zack wasn't a legitimate one, and that he was their willing ally in this instance.

* * *

~777~

And for that next while, they went on with the search: Cloud and Tifa skillfully keeping residents distracted while Zack searched its nooks and crannies. And as expected, this first, unassuming home contained what the ex-SOLDIER had already presumed. So when Zack had finished looking around its darkest corners, he gave them a single tap on both of their shoulders and followed them out.

And once they we're outside again, he said to them, "...I figured as much. That house _did _have a sliding wall."

"Fuck," Cloud harrumphed. "That probably explains why we can't find any signs of her. For all we know, we could've passed right by her and we would've never known it."

"That's the idea," Zack muttered, Tifa imagining a shrug following it. He was still cloaked, so she couldn't say for sure. "Let's just be careful though; there could be more than just a trick door or two."

"Are you saying that there might be actual _traps_-?" Tifa wondered aloud in disbelief.

"-Maybe. Its a strong assumption, but we shouldn't eliminate it," Zack returned. "So for the record, if they suddenly want to lead you somewhere and they seem oddly hospitable for any weird reason, just don't buy into it until I tell you otherwise. Alright?"

"Noted," Cloud mouthed back.

And so it went: From the second house down and into the third; and with the fourth being of a similar story. The fifth and sixth were much of the same as well; although Zack admitted that he nearly _did _fall into a trap-door in the floor when he accidentally displaced a decorative sword on a stand atop of a dresser. He had taken so long to look in that last place that Tifa and Cloud wondered if something bad really _did _happen to him. So when he headed outside and told them about it, all it did was curdle their nerves.

Some hour or two later- and covered in a new, fresher layer of sweat- Tifa and the men just wanted to be done with the day. Zack had to stop and uncloak on occasion; running out of stamina a little quicker than Tifa expected of an ex-SOLDIER. She did also consider that his black clothes and armor must've been a nightmare for him; seeing how red he got around his eyes where his goggles weren't covering skin. Cloud was merely too short-tempered to keep going, but keep going he did- despite the weight of the Buster Sword finally taking its toll. And as for the bar-tender herself, still she dreamt of that one cleansing shower that'll help remove all of her current problems...

By now, the sun was probably around the three or four o' clock mark; leaving the trio completely and utterly thirsty and tired. They checked another seventh, eighth, even a tenth house; but to no avail. However, even Tifa knew that Yuffie wouldn't be able to elude them forever; considering how often she watched Zack turn to the transmitter in his ear to converse with Cissnei. Every time he broke connection with her though, it was always a tiny disappointment to hear that even _she _hadn't seen anything.

But by around the four-thirty mark, that's when things started to take a _real_ turn for the more... _interesting_.

Zack briefly stopped them to contact Cissnei yet again, but he blinked in mild confusion when he received no immediate reply over the transmitter. After trying this a few times, his brows crinkled; and then he whipped out his cell and tried calling her. And when even that didn't work- That's when he started to fidget in earnest.

At first, it didn't seem to be much of a problem; but Tifa knew something was wrong when more than a whole minute had gone by and she _still_ hadn't answered his calls. Zack shifted his weight from one hip to another; and then he started to pace vigorously when three minutes had gone and she hadn't replied to any of his increasingly desperate attempts to get her on the line.

"I don't get it," he muttered, his voice turning into a hiss as he went on. "Why am I only getting static-? From _both _devices-?!"

"Something wrong?" Cloud queried.

Zack didn't immediately answer, holding up a finger to the slightly younger man as he continued to wait for Cissnei's response via transmitter. When she still hadn't picked up by the four minute-mark, he knew something was wrong.

So, as far as Tifa can guess, he changed frequencies and said, "..Yo Vince. Can you read me?"

_"I read you. Did you find the target?"_

"Negative. But I've tried hailing Sis and seeing if she's seen anything recently... Did you hear back from her at all?"

Tifa and Cloud couldn't hear too much of this Vince, but the transmitter was dialed up just enough for them to catch more of the conversation. To be fair, Zack was deliberately letting them hear the news as it came. Cloud however did turn to Tifa once and mouthed soundlessly, _"He has another partner...?"_; only for Tifa to merely shrug. Zack hadn't made any mention of this Vince to them until now, so it was a bit of a surprise.

_"...Hm. No. Not within the last ten minutes ," _bespoke the man with a growl unlike any Tifa has ever heard within her whole life. _"I've contacted her about that long ago, but I assumed she was on the toilet or talking to the other Turks that **are** here. She didn't pick it up when I tried her..."_

"So... she hasn't reported to you since then-?"

_"My last contact with her was maybe twenty or so minutes ago. I only got static when I tried her again just two minutes before you contacted me."_

"So you're only getting static too...?"

_"Yes, and its not clearing up. I even assumed we've wondered far enough from each other's range, but Cissnei isn't someone who'd deliberately let this happen. If nothing else, she'd track your location first and foremost on her cell. Did you try calling her?"_

"Y-yeah... but... she's not picking up."

_"Voicemail?"_

Zack replied in the negative, his expression no longer its composed mask. He even blinked several times, his respirator moving along with his jaw as he likely clenched it. He looked up and around the vicinity suspiciously, suddenly feeling his heart take a sudden, trepidatious leap.

"You don't think she's... I dunno. You wager she ran into someone with a vendetta against Shinra?" Zack tried after a minute.

_"Perhaps. But I can only assume she can get herself out of trouble; should that be the case. If this happened, maybe her transmitter is broken...?"_

Zack was by now eye-balling his other two companions in shared confusion and varying amounts of concern; unable to completely deny the fact that something had _indeed _gone wrong. So to help calm his growing nerves, he whipped out his cell and unlocked it again; going to pull up a signal screen that betrayed his immediate location with a glowing red dot. The trio noticed Zack's position was clear enough; alongside the blink of three others. Cloud and Tifa had no idea what these other signals were, but apparently Zack's suddenly twitchy reaction was a sheer tell of something insidious.

After staring at his screen for another blatant minute in slack-jawed silence, Zack asked in this low, emotionless tone that contained only the tiniest, hair-thin _thread _of his original composure, "Heya... Vince. I don't suppose you can tell me how many other Turks are here for sure...?"

_"I believe Cissnei told us this morning that Reno, Rude, and Elena would be here... So I suppose just them?"_

"I'm only seeing four dots, man. You, me, _and _them." Zack's tone hardened, "But come to think of it, I should be seeing _six _here. You, me, Cissnei, Reno, Rude, _and _Elena..."

_"So, there's a fifth **and** __sixth missing-?"_

"Yup,"Zack dead-panned.

_"I just talked with Reno and Rude. So if they're not whose missing-"_

"Then **_Elena_** is!" Tifa cut in, remembering when the girl went off on her own only an hour or so before.

There was an inebriative silence so weighted-down that no one soul felt pressed to break it. And sure, while maybe they could be treating this a little too seriously too soon, Zack's gut feeling; alongside that of Cloud and Tifa's jointly, couldn't help saying otherwise. He shut his phone after spending the better part of another half-a-minute ogling at it, unable to muster the courage to speak up until Vince did so for him.

_"I'll go check it out," _he said so simply. _"Who knows? Maybe Cissnei's waiting at the bird just to tell us her transmitter's battery has died. Or she left her cell on it-"_

"Pfft. Yunno, I _highly _doubt that," Zack sarcastically breathed more to himself. "But uh, if you're suggesting we wait a couple more minutes and see if she pings us back at all-"

_"Give me five minutes, max. And then I'll get back to you. Will you look for she and Elena as well?"_

"Need you ask?"

_"Alright. We rendezvous back at the bird if we lose anymore contact. If I don't see Cissnei or Elena at the helicopter, we'll assume something's happened and we'll look for them then. For all we know, maybe Cissnei realized Elena's missing and she went to look for her covertly."_

Zack shook his head rather doubtfully, his expression contrite. "I wouldn't think that she'd do this without at least telling somebody though," he muttered more to himself. He then looked up and said, "...Thanks, Vince. Talk to you then."

When he closed his connection, Zack turned to look back at Cloud and Tifa's antsy expressions with frustrated anxiety; unable to gather himself to change his voice again. By now, the blond swordsman had noticed Zack's timbre was no longer the fake one he usually used, but he had the courtesy to not bring it up now.

"Okay then," Zack eventually huffed, his timbre almost shaken. _A__lmost_. "You heard the man: We get a few more minutes of play-time together, and then I'll hafta call it quits. You might have to look for Yuffie on your own then-"

Tifa rapidly shook her head, "No way. It doesn't have to be that way. Maybe while we look for Yuffie, we can search for any clues on where Cissnei went too? And again, you guys don't even know for _sure _something's happened-"

"Hm, maybe not," Zack folded his arms and meandered about. "But lemme tell ya; sis has always been digging into my ass ever since day _one _of my donning this gear. The first moment I even stepped into her helicopter, she became my nanny in all but name. She's been constantly hounding me about my health and what I'm doing. And you guys saw how frequently I reported to her up until just a few moments ago-" He shook his head, "She's _never_, in all of my weeks and weeks of being with her, she's _neeeeevveeerrr _not contacted me. Even in emergencies, or when she's about to warn me that her battery is dying... she's always managed to get back to me somehow."

He stepped past them, his attention on another house in particular, "I can't help thinking something might've actually happened to her. I could be wrong, but my gut's never been wrong otherwise."

Cloud glanced off to the side, his expression contemplative. For all rights and purposes, he looked ready to switch the subject of their search around.

"Anyways," Zack went on. "We'll check another couple of houses together. If you guys wanna help, go ahead. I won't stop you."

"Consider it done," Cloud immediately reciprocated.

"Huh?" Tifa and Zack both actually shot him matching glances there.

Cloud waved them off, giving the pair another one of those composed scoffs. "So far, while I _still_ don't trust you, you've spared us the courtesy to help us out. Frankly, I also don't give a damn about the other Turks, but you and Rust-Hair haven't really done much warrant us in saying 'no'. So, we might as well return the favor- if at least to you and not the rest of them hacks. Right, Tifa?"

The aforementioned woman nodded resolutely, and then turned back to Zack, "Yeah. So we'll help you search around as much as you need!"

"What about the rest of AVALANCHE?" Zack tried.

"Barret will get over it," Cloud smirked. "And its not like Cid and the rest will say no. And we _ALL _know Aerith is only going to badger us about helping you search-"

"C'mon," Tifa actually had the audacity to suddenly reach out and give Zack's armored wrist a faint tug in another direction. "Let's get it done."

The larger man merely stared at them and their retreating backs, unable to speak or contradict the assistance. Inwardly, he smiled to himself as he trailed behind them; cloaking right after. But still, its not like the group had any real plans of actually continuing to find Yuffie after a certain point; as its already late in the day. Zack accepted this, and he knew they did too.

So now, here they were; at the last house of the street before they turn their attentions to Cissnei's more pronounced absence. It hadn't even reached the full five minute mark, but Tifa can tell that Zack was eagerly awaiting this Vince's reply. He kept moving a hand to his ear; trying Cissnei's frequency as much as he can- which was just about every few seconds. As they meandered up to the stoop though, Zack decided to give up the calls and cloaked himself; staying as close to their backs as he can without being too intrusive of their personal space.

They approached the final dwelling and knocked; although the sound was muffled compared to the irritating _thump, thump _and _crash _that followed. In fact, the plethora of chaotic noises happened just as Tifa knocked, so the trio figured no one had heard it. So instead, Cloud apprehensively tried knocking a little more loudly and stepped back; folding his arms in the process.

The three of them however all jumped jointly when they heard a squawking call that screeched _absolute_, hoarse, blood-curdling murder-

And its a sound that Tifa will never forget.

"-_**AAAAAAAAARGH! **_THERE'S EVEN _MORE _OF THEM OUT THERE! QUICK! GET THAT LITTLE PARASITE OUTTA HERE! I SWEAR SHE'S _ONE OF THEM_! SHE'S ONE OF THEIR SPIES! SHE'S ONE OF _THEIR EYES- THEIR __**EEEYYYYYEEESSS**__-_"

"Grand-dad! She's not a spy- _Great ancestors what are you doing?! _You need to be in _bed_!"

"ITS SHINRA! ITS'S SHINRA'S DOGS AGAIN. The dogs... THE DOGS. _**THEIR BLOOD-THIRSTY HOUNDS**__-_ They're here again... oh, they're coming to KILL US ALL THIS TIME! THEIR HORRIBLE, IN-HUMAN, MAKO-PUMPED **MONGRELS**-"

Tifa heard a steel-toed boot hit cobble-stone behind her; prompting her to turn and notice that Zack was no longer cloaked. This observation mystified and worried her _immediately_; especially when she caught sight of the look on his suddenly gaunt, platter-sized eyes. If nothing else, it looked like he forgot how to use his own spell at the sound of the cry.

Cloud had turned as well, just then blinking off his initial surprise and tilting his head at the taller individual. He looked like he was going to ask what's wrong, but he didn't follow up on the query. Instead, he turned to Tifa and said almost casually, "Okay then... so how about we just look for Rust-Hair instead-?"

Not even two whole seconds after he asked this, several things happened at once and chained together; creating an effective maelstrom that Tifa would never truly quite make sense of when she dawns back on this day someday:

_BANG._

The door clapped Cloud and Tifa _right in the face _as it slammed open; effectively knocking them into the suddenly unresponsive Zack. The three of them fell backward together, which in-turn threw the latter into the stone road with a breathless _CLANG_. Zack's blades and Cloud's Buster Sword resounded rather loudly across the entire street; the former's respirator knocked askew by a flying set of twiggy limbs that didn't quite belong with that of either of his companions. These skinny limbs flailed about and slapped the blond and bar-tender right outside their faces as well; forcing the remaining air out of Zack and making quite a mess of the situation.

_"Ow ow ow ow OW!_ What the heck ol' man!?"

_"GET OUT YOU THIEVING LITTLE LIAR! GET OUT GET OUT GET __**OUT**__!"_

The limbs once again wriggled and twisted in a confusing blur of white and fabric; and then Tifa opened her eyes to take a swift look at their little assault-tee-

Only to be eye-to-eye with the one and only Yuffie Kisaragi herself.

"Uh... hi... guys-?" she gulped.

_"Hello there_," snarled Cloud with a wicked grin beside her, just as he immediately recovered his senses-

-Only to lose them again when Yuffie accidentally clocked him in the jaw when she tried to rapidly get up; the old man inside the house now throwing hard, pointy, metal objects at the four of them. Tifa barely caught sight of things ranging in-between frying pans and shurikens and throwing knives of varying types and sizes as they flew by. She, Cloud, Yuffie and Zack (who managed to snap out of his weird daze) tried untangling and running; but the old owner of the house was shockingly swifter than they.

"I KNEW IT! THEY'RE BACK TO KILL US ALL! QUICK! SOMEONE GO CALL LORD GODO! I knew this day was coming- ITS THE WAR ALL OVER **AGAIN**!" He bellowed as he rushed towards them; this time wielding an antique katanna he likely plucked from the wall.

"Grandpa _NOOO_-" screamed another girl perhaps no older than Yuffie herself, the adolescent frantically waving her arms before wrapping them around her elder's mid-riff. "They're not SOLDIER! THEY'RE JUST **TOURISTS**! _LISTEN to me already_-!"

Like teenage kids caught in the middle of ding-dong-dash, Zack, Cloud, Tifa, and Yuffie jointly fled the scene without so much as another glance over their shoulders.

Yuffie however pulled ahead much quicker than any of them had expected; likely having casted Haste on herself at that very second. When Tifa saw this however, she knew the chase was _immediately _on in earnest.

As it was, Yuffie was certainly not stopping to take a single breath; despite being _clearly _exhausted herself. After having likely ran around the town the entire day though, who wouldn't? She huffed and pumped her arms rapidly like Hell itself was on her heels; knowing full-well that if any one of these three caught her, she was doomed. In fact, she was probably likely internally questioning why Cissnei's partner was with Cloud and Tifa, but its not like she can just turn and _ask_.

Tifa noticed Zack stick out an arm; a green orb flashing into light as it casted whatever unknown spell he had in mind. However, it apparently didn't work when she heard him spit a curse from under his raggedy, respirator-cracked breath right after.

_"Fuck," _he mouthed to her; having fixed his mask back properly by now. "Chronos doesn't work on her!"

Its not like she could ask what the spell did in that moment; but she figured it was some sort of time spell. Tifa wagered Yuffie had a warding materia equipped with her haste; and it was in hind-sight an intelligent move on the younger girl's part. So instead, Zack casted this 'Chronos' onto Tifa herself, and then he and Cloud following. Right after he did that, Zack gracefully took to the air with a mighty High-Jump materia-powered burst and ran along the roof-tops; cloaking right after.

_He's going to cut her off, _Tifa immediately realized. _Me and Cloud just have to wear out her spell and keep her attention on us._

She nodded to Cloud, who had apparently figured the same thing she had. He confidently returned the dip in the head with an answering scoff; and then he sped to the opposite side of the street. His mako-and-spell-powered legs were a blur beneath him; the man expertly dodging around any passerby he came across.

Tifa felt the spell carry her a little closer to Yuffie; Chronos' effect apparently a little faster than the typical Haste. She vaulted over pots, carts, pets, people; anything and everything with an easy grace she was proud to call her own. She even managed to jump over someone's fence and _run along its top_; getting increasingly closer to Yuffie just as the desperate girl tried her luck to dodge them.

Yuffie was crafty however; even going as far as to cast Slow or Stop on Tifa and Cloud to nullify their boost. However, Zack merely immediately re-casted the spell as a counter; rendering the back-handed tactic moot. If anything, with Yuffie having to stop just long enough to even _try_ to cast the ailment, it only allowed Cloud and Tifa to get that much _closer _to her.

Yuffie yelped as she registered the failure; and then she rapidly turned a corner and disappeared down an alley quicker than Tifa can react. Of course, the blond and bar-tender followed; having just whipped around the bend and catching Yuffie as she wall-jumped like a parkour-pro from side-to-side of the narrow passage. She elevated herself to the roof-tops just before Cloud seized her; the girl cackling all the way-

-Only to run right into Zack's waiting hands.

Yuffie crashed into the man; wide-eyed with shock when a pair of invisible tree-trunk arms wrapped themselves around her- just like that day at the Costa Del Sol. However, this time around Yuffie wasn't so totally under-prepared: She didn't bother wriggling out of Zack's iron-grip, so she used a Transform spell and _shrunk herself so she can slip out_. Zack had clearly been taken by surprise when she suddenly became a third of her original size; and he actually did loosen up anyways just so he didn't accidentally crush her. The girl ran away form him quicker than he can recover; and then she resumed normal size and leapt to the adjacent building next door.

Zack and Cloud sounded remarkably alike when they both hollered _"FUCK!"; _and then they resumed the chase together; their facial expressions probably matched for all Tifa knew.

Tifa suddenly felt the Chronos spell get re-casted onto her again; and then she watched Zack once again cloak and disappear into another direction. She had no idea where he planned on going this time, but she figured he had another idea in mind. Cloud and Tifa stayed along the streets though, letting the Turk associate pursue their quarry from above.

Yuffie was tiring; this much they all knew. She didn't have Cloud or Zack's stamina; nor their level of spirituality when it came to spells. She also didn't have the advantage of having that many allies either; so no one but herself was going to have to find ways of shaking her pursuers.

This in mind, Yuffie tried once again to cast haste on herself to renew the effect; but just as she whipped it out, she yelled in shock as the materia suddenly_ floated up into the air and away from her_. She actually paused long enough to try to catch it and fumbled; and then she realized it was flying right towards Tifa and she had to reconsider her choice of trying to reclaim it.

"_FAT ULTRA CHOCOBO KRAKKA-GREENS!" _she hollered, turning on a dime and pelting away- magic rock be damned.

Tifa caught the orb and fused it with her arm; but didn't do anything to tamper with the spell Zack had already casted on her. If anything, she sped along and noticed that Yuffie was trying to head to the more convoluted food service area; where the crowds and tourists were at their natural thickest. If she was allowed to re-enter that area though, they were _sure _to lose her; especially if the crowd saw three adults running after a teenage girl. It would look bad in more than just one way.

Just before the girl could reach her desired escape route, Yuffie was screaming for another reason; and this time SHE was _flying _straight into air and into an uncontrollable flip caused by her own upward momentum. She kept flipping and flipping like a pinwheel; turning greener and greener with every horrifying revolution. Once she was completely slowed to a stop, she was probably suspended twenty-feet into the air and hung upside-down. She _ulped _next, the girl letting her arms flop limply below her as she slowly realized she would be unable to get herself back down.

Cloud and Tifa jointly stopped, only to see the spell keeping her up there for what it really was: The pair turned and noticed Zack had materialized into view again, but this time holding out his left arm with another, unidentified spell keeping the green orb in his limb aglow. He was clearly levitating the girl, but not with anything Tifa could actually recognize.

_Is that the same spell he used on the blades back at the boat-? _She wondered, not sure if this was a spell meant for human use.

"Nice going," Cloud nodded to him.

Zack's chest suddenly fluttered warningly; the sharp intake a harsh thing that horrified Tifa just as she caught it. The skin around his shaded eyes whitened; his pupils pining until they were nearly needle-tips. Upon seeing this, Tifa knew he was going to drop Yuffie if she didn't do something.

Just then, Yuffie's altitude lowered just a couple of stuttering inches; but certainly enough to frighten the group. And then, just as Zack violently huffed again, she began to drop almost entirely-

Tifa however used the haste materia she newly acquired from Zack and leapt into the air; catching the tinier girl and rolling into the street. She hugged Yuffie tightly to herself, rolling some few meters before she came to a gravel-grinding halt. With pebbles wedged into her hair, sweat-soaked clothes and bare flesh, Tifa knew she was going to have a hell of time trying to get herself cleaned up later. Still, she sighed with relief when she saw no injuries to the younger individual; happy to see Yuffie wasn't anymore bruised than herself.

Yuffie shook; and then she wiggled free from Tifa's embrace and into an undignified sprawl onto the cobblestone street. She smacked a hand to her mouth, _ulped_, her eyes widening; and then she projectile vomited up all of her breakfast from earlier this morning. She heaved and shuddered, and then rolled over until she was on her back.

"Ugh... I give up. Just don't... don't ever-" she puffed. "...Please... don't do that again. I swear, I'll be good this time."

Tifa blinked and didn't say anything, but quickly evaluated that Yuffie would be unable to run again for the next minute or two. In fact, she carefully looked over Yuffie's form and took stock of the _few _materia she had on her; which essentially surprised her the more she looked. She even plucked the glittering rocks out; feeling her nerves churn when she didn't find that many on her.

"Where's the rest of it-?" Tifa muttered, holding out the handful of gems in her arms. She managed to find just Transform, Fire, Warding, Barrier, a couple of measly boosts and the Haste materia Zack passed her earlier- but nothing else of their usually large repertoire.

Tifa decided she'd ask in a second; right after she checked up on Zack. She wondered why he suddenly petered out like that when he'd been doing so well to keep up with she and Cloud. He'd showed no exhaustion or any evidence of his condition until just that one spell-

_So what the heck happened?_

She pocketed the crystals and kept an eye on Yuffie while she approached the former SOLDIER; noticing that the man was now down on all fours. His chest was a shivering, thorny cage clenching around his weakened lungs; hooded head almost kissing the ground as he stayed stooped. His arms shook like he had a deathly cold; shoulders bunched and weapons forgotten on the ground beside him. His respirator was _obscenely _loud; a noise that kept shattering whatever lull had followed them.

Cloud was bent beside him too, shaking his head and likely wondering the same thing as Tifa. He looked up between she and the man once, and then he asked, "Yo. You okay? Can you breathe?"

The larger man looked so much smaller than as he really was; almost pathetic compared to the original, intimidating image of _Zack Fair _that Tifa knew. This former SOLDIER couldn't do whatever super-human feats were required of Shinra's dogs; a broken tool they could no longer use. In fact, Tifa wouldn't doubt that on a decent enough day, even _she _can beat Zack alone in a level fight with no magic.

She searched Yuffie's materia kit for a healing spell, but she didn't see it. She pursed her lip and tossed the girl another side-ways glance; only to see that the ninja girl was now raptly staring at Zack herself. She blinked a few times and then laid on her belly, confusion wrenching itself across her face.

"Okay then, so I'm gonna ask," she bluntly began, now that she was no longer quite so green in the gills. "What're you guys even doing with the Turks' pet anyway? And what the heck is even _wrong _with him?"

Tifa didn't get the chance to reply- Instead, her attention immediately snapped back to Zack when she saw him cringe and shudder; moving a shaken hand to his unseen ear and tapping the wire piece. It seemed this Vince was finally pinging him back.

_"-Garm? do you hear me?" _said he.

Zack kept on huffing; sounding very much like he was having trouble trying to get some air back into him and _keeping _it there. Despite the whispery, hoarse crackle of his voice, he said, "...Loud and clear... *huff* ...Did you... *huff* ...find her-?"

_"No. She isn't at the bird either," _Vince reciprocated, although there was a trace of confusion within his natural, growling timbre as he realized Zack was winded. _"What the heck happened on your end? Why do you sound so exhausted? Did you run into trouble **again**?"_

"...Found Yuffie... *huff* ...Don't worry about it," Zack immediately deflected, his tone brittle. He then snarled, "Look, did you not hear back from Cissnei, or what-?_"_

_"I've pinged Reno and the rest... but it seems they haven't heard from her either. In fact- they tell me that Elena is **officially** missing as well."_

"Oh COME ON!" Zack was suddenly on his feet and yelling at full octave; his exhaustion suddenly much further away.

Tifa caught from the corner of her eye Yuffie steadily trying to make her escape; but she casted Stop on her before she could even crawl another couple more inches. She turned to Cloud next, noticing his expression briefly flicker with a grimace as he too absorbed the enormity of this portent.

_"It seems we have a new directive then," _Vince went on to say quiet seriously. _"We have two missing Turks, and apparently a rogue criminal is running freely around Wutai that may be behind the disappearances. In fact- I actually ran into some of this guy's hired goons at the bird."_

"You were **_attacked_**-?!" Zack babbled, suddenly frenetically pacing about; despite his redness and fatigue. "By WHO?!"

_"Some Wutain warriors calling themselves the Crescent Unit. I have a few of them hog-tied by our vehicle. They were trying to get into it."_

At this, Zack threw back his head and **_YELLED_**\- A violent, crackling sound that startled Tifa, Cloud, and the paralyzed Yuffie. He punched out his arms and rapidly turned; his metal-knuckled fist connecting with the stone building behind him and effectively sinking in a hole deep enough for Tifa to snugly fit an infant's head.

He turned back around and pressed on rather acidly, "...Are you suggesting that these guys, this 'CRESCENT-FUCKING-UNIT' you ran into- was HIRED- by this- _this_\- this same criminal Reno's been after?"

_"From what I managed to gather, perhaps."_

"Fucking-" Zack started and stopped; apparently too tired and infuriated to correctly sew together anymore decent expletives without having to put too much thought into it. He then slumped, huffed again, and put his hand back on the transmitter, "...Look Vince- this... this is bad. And I mean- _REALLY _bad... The Crescent Unit... They-" He paused as he eyed Yuffie, his expression blanking out briefly. He then went on with a stiffer tenor, "-I'm familiar with these guys. And lemme tell you- they _especially _don't like Shinra. If those guys presumably took Cissnei and Elena... then their lives are in very _real _danger here!"

_"Do **you **__really __believe Cissnei was caught by them? Even I haven't managed to confirm this."_

"I think we can hazard that as a reasonable assumption and say YES-" Zack growled. "The Crescent Unit are **_hella_ **vicious and have a _killer _vendetta against Shinra- especially when it comes to their SOLDIER and Turk operatives. They're some of the only warriors in this whole damn country that're strong enough to even take on a SOLDIER or Turk in the first place!"

_"Then we have a lot of work to do," _said he. _"I'd say we should link up, but it would take too long. We need to find them- STAT."_

"Ya damn right we do," Zack nodded.

He stopped when he noticed Tifa waving at him, gesticulating pointedly to herself and Cloud next. Zack blinked almost dumbly and leveled her a confused stare; and then he caught on to what she was saying and shook his head. Having said that, the two began to sign angrily at each other for a solid few seconds before Zack finally relented and wearily added on, "Heya, Vince... Cloud and Tifa said they'll help."

_"Huh?"_

"...Yeah, I know. But they said they can help, so I'm going to take it."

_"Why in Gaia's name would they- You know what... Fine. We need every set of eyes we can get. Did they at least get their materia back?"_

Zack's mako-charged eyes narrowed as they lingered over Yuffie, "Not yet, but they're _about to_. Right lil' lady?"

Yuffie could only whimper; unable to speak or move so long as the materia's spell kept its hold over her.

Vince went on, _"I'll start the search ahead of time. Make sure Cloud and the rest recover their materia. I get the feeling that we'll be seeing some fights before long, and we'll need the extra fire-power."_

"Copy that," Zack finished, his eyes steeled as they locked with Tifa's. "You be safe out there."

_"Its not me that I'm worried about,"_ Vince replied with some air of warning. _"So, make sure to take your own advice, Garm."_

"Yes mom," Zack rolled his eyes, finally releasing the transmitter and turning back to their catch of the day. He almost merrily clapped his gloved hands together, having finally shaken off his earlier exhaustion. "So, shall we finally get your stuff back?" he queried politely; even though his tensed body language suggested his desire for immediate haste.

"Let's," Tifa nodded, with Cloud doing the same beside her.


End file.
